


Figure It Out - Effie and Haymitch

by Skyllen



Series: The Hayffie Legacy [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: Book/Movie 2: Catching Fire, District 12 (Hunger Games), District 13 (Hunger Games), F/M, Love, Post-Catching Fire, Prison, Rebellion, The Capitol, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyllen/pseuds/Skyllen
Summary: Effie Trinket, just another Capitol puppet. The Quarter Quell begins and it suddenly shows that Effie isn't as obsessed with the Capitol as it seemed. The revolution gets going and Effie, who came closer to Haymitch than she would have ever expected, has to figure out where her loyalties lie. And her time is running out.
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Series: The Hayffie Legacy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776523
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. Faded

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first fanfic in English language. Some of you may know me as @clockworktributes from Tumblr, I posted a lot of Hayffie edits some years ago.
> 
> Well this is ''Figure It Out'', I've been working on this fanfic for over two years by now but only in German language. This is the first time I translated something so I hope it's okay. Please let me know.
> 
> This fanfic is about Effie and Haymitch and how their relationship develops during the Quarter Quell. Haymitch and Effie have been very close in the past, but Haymitch wouldn't be Haymitch if he pushes away the people he has feelings for (although Effie never understood, that he pushed her away to keep her save). I don't want to tell you too much from the story, I'm rather explaining some details in the beginning or ending of the chapters.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this and even if you not, please let me know. I would be very grateful to get some feedback, especially because it's my first translated fanfic.
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!
> 
> Skyllen

**Faded**

I solemnly stare at the wooden houses of District 12. It's quiet; so quiet one could hear a pin drop. I have to think of last year's reaping.

It had been like every other year. Camera teams accompanying me from all sides, an escort of Peacekeepers being available for me at all times and the mayor who _always_ welcomed me personally.

But it seems to be different this year. The last Games changed something.

As an escort you hear scraps of conversations over the years - especially when the mentor is drunk most of the time. There are many enemies of the Capitol out here. They have been quiet the last seventy-five years but that may have changed recently.

A screen of fog lies over the district. It's cooler than last year, as if the weather knew what awaits us today. I feel queasy at the thought of it.

From afar, I hear the doors of the train closing behind me. I already crave to get into the train again later.

I'm standing alone on the old and rotten train station of District 12, wearing black high heels and a beautiful orange dress, like a diamond surrounded by stones. No trace of camerateams. No flashlights. _Nothing_. Not even the major is here to welcome me. I'm horrified that anyone could treat the escort of last year's victors like this.

Only a little escort of four Peacekeepers is waiting for me. They don't wear helmets and I can barely identify any faces. Just a young black haired woman looks familiar. No one greets or salutes. Without hesistation, they take me into their middle and let me get into the car. _What a_ _wful manners!_

That's the moment I know that it's going to be different this year. Closing my eyes I try to think of my arrival but my brain is too agitated to grasp a clear thought.

The months since the announcement of the Quarter Quell passed in a trance. Actually, I should be happy like all the people are. But I can't, now that it suddenly gets personal.

 _They have to go back into the arena._ There's no space for other thoughts in my mind right now, although I know that I shouldn't be caring that much. I am not allowed to get attached but I can't help it. All the tributes we lost until the fate finally meant it well with us. Of course I can't just let them go.

Nobody knows them like I do. They think they know everything about them. But they don't know how it is to be awaken by Haymitchs screams when there's no liquor left on the train and he has to torture himself through his nightmares. Or when Katniss cries over all the dead children, who weren't unlike her and she still was forced to kill them. Peeta, who doesn't want to burden us his grief and you still see the absent expression in his eyes when he remembers. _No, they won't ever understand them like I do._

From the beginning, it had been a very hard time for me and Haymitch. I understand that it didn't come easy to him to trust a woman who looks like the people who murdered his family. But it also wasn't easy for me to care for those kids alone while he drank himself till he passed out because he could't bare the sight of them. Because he lost hope before he even tried.

Yet still we managed it somehow. Our relationship isn't the best but it has been worse.

In my first years as escort of District 12 we fought a lot. We still fight a lot though but it's different somehow. To watch me retun year after year trying to at least help our kids a bit, must have filled him with pain. Vainly helped. There were years when he was so drunk that he threw wine bottles at me. But he quickly got ingenious. Sometime he started to disgrace me in front of the cameras. He just was wrong about one point. If he thought I would quit and look for another job, then he had totally got me wrong.

I don't know when it began but sometime we started to fight our arguments out with words. He did everything to hurt me, to show me that time has changed but I never showed him how much he really hurted me because that was the thing he wanted to see. He wanted me to hate him. And sometimes I did. His prejudices about my motives to work for the Hunger Games. _"To work for Snow,"_ as he called it sometimes when he totally lost his mind. Maybe at the beginning, he really thought I was a freak from the Capitol who didn't have any better things to do but making his life a living hell.

It's different today. Today, Haymitch and I are friends somehow. It has to be strange watching us argue because we still do. I advise him and he provokes me. But today, I can say, he wouldn't throw me to the sharks immediately, when he could decide about my fate.

And as odd our relationship might be and as much he annoyed me the past years, I don't want to be the one sending him back into the arena. I wouldn't ever forgive myself. But, then again, I wouldn't ever forgive myself sending Peeta back. Or Katniss.

I know that I won't bear it a second time. _The spirit of the Games._ I dimly remember my words when I let them bring Katniss to me last year after she volunteered for her sister.

But back then I haven't known what was underneath the facade. I didn't suspect that she would do everything to return to her family. It was the first year, after all the dead tributes, when Haymitch and I assembled and _really_ cared. We did it once before, in my first year as an escort but it all changed. We cared that they had a chance. It was a heartbreaking time but we withstanded. All four of us. This time created a connection. _I can't let them go again. It would break the rest of my sparkling personality into thousand of little pieces._

When I saw them again for Victory Tour, the air between Katniss and Peeta had already changed. The Games had marked them with everlasting scars.

It was the first time I visited another district than Twelve and we were entirely suprised when the Victory Tour already took a bitter course in District 11. Haymitch had suspected about the mood in the other districts but even he was not prepared for this. He didn't even have the time to visit Chaff because they immediately brought us back to the train.

It must have had something to do with the moods in the districts when Peeta proposed to Katniss afterwards. It didn't feel true. Especially because they couldn't look into the others eyes in the train. _And I know them._

Haymitch said, everything was alright but he had always said that. Maybe because he didn't think I could be more than a Capitol doll.

They changed but so did I. For all these years I wanted to prove something. I wanted to get promoted into a better district. I wanted to show my parents that I wasn't just the _second_ child. It seemed like the only opportunity back then.

However, I quickly realized how cruel the Games really are and realized the senselessness behind it. Haymitch had never been a great convenience to save our kids from the arena. I failed every year once more while he got off his head. It became routine after some years. I didn't want it. I hoped too much. I expected too much from him. I thought because this one year on good terms, we would always be on good terms never mind what happens. He pushed me away quickly. And every time I looked him straight in the eyes I saw the pain he tried to hide. Pain he tried to avoid through alcohol. I was greatful being able to hide my feels behind a mask of make-up, colorful clothes and a fake accent. And someday I stopped crying for all the dead children. I just pushed my feelings away as much as I could and that worked better than expected.

But then suddenly it all changed. Or as Haymitch would say: "it all went to hell". It was clearly recogniseable that it would all proceed differently the moment Katniss volunteered for her sister. Because _she_ was different. She went for someone she loved. Someone it was worth coming back to.

Even in Haymitch she seemed to awake something because suddenly his drinking got better and he helped. It was like a new era.

It was a totally new experience to work with two nearly _practiced_ tributes. Katniss did everything to return home and showed me that every human being was worth too much to find an senseless end in the Hunger Games. _Rue_.

I cared for them like a mother, and today is the day when _I_ will decide about the fate of my two young children. I _h_ _ave_ to decide.

I lift my head in a sigh and try to peer past one of the Peacekeepers. From afar you can recognize the Justice Building. The rising sun reflects in its dirty windows.

The car begins to move jumpily. It's the same car I escorted my tributes to the train station in every year. _Escorted_ _them to their_ _death_ _s_ _._

I stare at my hands franticly. They tremble. What's going on with me? Only now I see that my dress rumpled when I sat down. It doesn't matter. How can I think about a rumpled dress today? _Pull yourself together,_ _E_ _uphemia_ _! What_ _would_ _your parents think_ _of_ _you?_

Five minutes later we stop at the Justice Building. I get out of the car in silence and enter the building through the back entrance. I have two hours until the reaping begins and claims two tributes. I get uncomfortable at the thought of it.

Who will it affect? Katniss anyway. It must have been a shock for her. The arena was far worse for her than for Peeta. Peeta or Haymitch? Haymitch or Peeta?

I always visit Haymitch before the reaping to make sure he wears something appropriate. This year I'm not allowed to see him before the reaping begins. I really don't know what difference it would make. To be honest, I couldn't help any of them anymore. They would rather ignore me instead.

oOo

The people of District 12 are standing silently in the sun-drenched square, the boiling heat beating down on them as they sweat. From all sides, machine-guns are aimed at them. Again, you only hear the sound of my high heels when I step on the podium in front of the Justice Building. I am almost embarrassed by it.

And finally, I see them.

The reunion after months totally blindsides me. Cooped up like animals, they stand in closed off areas. Katniss on my left and Haymitch and Peeta on my right side. They're throwing glances at each other, looking straight through me. Not angry though. Instead they're rather thoughtful, as if each of them is hoping for another outcome of the reaping.

They take the last bit of bravery I I had been holding on to. I stagger to the microphone insecure before I welcome the crowd to the Third Quarter Quell's reaping. My golden wig reflects on the microphone's surface and for a brief moment I can see my gloomy eyes. What will the people in the Capitol think about my performance? What will my parents think? They will surely be disappointed like they always are…

I quit the needless chatter and go straight to the girls' reaping ball. Katniss stares at some point behind the crowd, free of emotion. I give her a pitying glance. Then, I grab the one piece of paper, unfold it and read Katniss' name. My voice is low and seems to come from far away. But something else resonates in it. Disapproval. No, I am not okay with it. My first mistake.

Katniss steps forward. A single tear runs down her cheek. I would like to at least say something to comfort her, but anyone could tell it wouldn't work. It would look like betrayal. My voice was already enough betrayal, and everyone knows what happens with traitors. Seneca Crane is the latest example.

Then, I go over to the boys' reaping ball. I glance at them briefly. Haymitch responds to my glance at once. Unlike usual. He's not looking afraid but there's a spark twinkling in his eyes. I tear my eyes away from his abruptly, smile into the camera and unfold the paper.

For a moment the world seems to come to a standstill. I just stare at the piece of paper and try to regain my composure. Inside of me I fight against the wave of panic which threatens to overrun me. No no no! I would just put him in danger when I don't have my voice under control this time. But I worry too much because before I can even read out his name properly, Peeta has already volunteered.

It's dead silent all over the square. I just stand there, waiting for Peeta to step forward. I don't know whether I am relieved or upset. Haymitch looks furious. He grabs Peetas arm and says something to him but the only thing I hear is an outraged hiss.

I don't get his fury, he couldn't change a thing anyway. It almost looks like Haymitch wants to go back into the arena although that's silly of course. Haymitch abhors the arena.

After brief hesitate, Peeta manages to pass past Haymitch and arranges himself on my right. He turns to the people from his District.

I don't know how I get to the thought but suddenly I wonder how it would be if this was my District, when I had to go into the arena. When I knew all those people personally. Have Katniss and Peeta a responsibility over them?

The people just stare at both of them in a resolute silence. Exactly like last year. Not regretful. But their silence reveals something. Something blazes in their eyes, just like fire. Proud. Suddenly I understand how they punish the Capitol with their silence. How they express protest. Then, almost synchronic, they raise their hands and stretch their three middle fingers at both of them. Everything has changed. This year, everything is going to be different.

And that causes me to be frightened. My expression goes poker-face and I stare at the crowd with pursed lips. I don't know what it is but something tells me that we better leave now.

I turn to them, already thinking about how long their family good-byes will take.

In that moment, the Head Peacekeeper appears. At least he wears his uniform. The man's another. Hard facial features, croppy hair. Greed in his eyes.

Before Haymitch or I can react, he grabs the children's arms and drags them into the Justice Building. He must mutter something close to Katniss' ear because I can see his lips moving. Instantly, Katniss struggles against his grip and stares into the crowd of people who began to whisper. Her eyes search for Prim.

"No." The words barely escape her mouth. "I'm allowed to say goodbye!" Her voice shivers in panic. I follow them quickly, about to say something that may calm Katniss down.

"Change of plan," he yells nearly at the top of his voice, so the people on the square and Prim can hear him. Then his eyes suddenly bore into mine. I freeze immediately and feel the sudden need to flee.

"You will escort them to the train," he commands, then turns round on his heels and disappears with Katniss and Peeta into the building. Prim begins to scream.

"Opposition-less, sweetheart?" I hear Haymitch's voice next to me. It sounds amused but his face is serious. Behind us, the Justice Buildings' doors close with a burst crash.

I shrug, irritated. "It's also nice to see you again," I remark defiantly and strut past him. I don't mention that he already showed better manners than his Head Peacekeeper. "I see things changed quickly here. New Head Peacekeeper?"

Haymitch gives me a warning glance. "Romulus Thread. Just do what he says. We already had enough problems with him." He catches up quickly and runs beside me.

Instead of asking, I glance at him and nod in understanding. We all have seen the lashing of Katniss' cousin on TV. It's the wrong place for such a conversation. We quickly catch up with Katniss and Peeta, who are surrounded by a dead quiet escort of Peacekeepers as if they were criminals.

For a brief moment, I drop my mask and flash furiously at Thread, who rushes, stressed, past us. I open my mouth to rebuke him but Haymitch grabs my wrist and stops me in my movement. He drags me past him. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see how he grimaces, enraged. Automatically, I press my lips together so I won't snap at him later when he snarls at me. It's improper for a lady. But Thread has no right to interfere in my work. It's my duty to decide when we leave 12.

Haymitch slows down a little when we leave the building before he relaxes his grip. "Don't do such a thing ever again," he hisses. "You just put yourself and the rest of us in danger."

I turn to him, stunned. "I beg your pardon?" My voice rises two octaves upwards and the outrage is unmistakeable.

"You exactly know what I mean, Effie," he shoots back harshly and I know he means it because he doesn't often call me by my name these days. "You can't just stay on that podium and inform the whole nation about your displeasure. Where was your damned head?"

My composed fury vanishes. Our startled eyes meet. For a moment, silence dominates. "I … - It just didn't work how I wanted it to," I admit.

The look in his eyes softens. "But usually it does."

Misunderstood, I shake my head. "It's different now. I apologize, I didn't want to put anyone in danger." When he saw it, my parents must have seen it as well.

"It's not about us, sweetheart. We're as good as dead but what's about you? I want you to keep the clean slate." With this words, we arrive at the car and he quickly slips into it.

I don't reply, don't even glance at him. If I open my mouth, I'll probably say something I'll regret later. My feelings would overwhelm me. Never before have I felt as desperate as today. How can a woman, annually reaping kids, have a clean slate?

oOo

Back at the train station, we come across Katniss and Peeta again. Even now, there are no camera teams surrounding us. The poor kids weren't even allowed to say goodbye to their families. How much strength does it take them to not be overwhelmed by their feelings? I see how they're holding each others hand to silently give comfort. It almost breaks my heart. I have to be strong for them. They need Haymitch and I probably more than ever before.

Once we all get in, the train clunks to life. Katniss and Peeta disappear in their cars. Calmly, I sit down at the table in the common room and take a look at our schedule. We're going to arrive in the Capitol in about twelve hours.

After a while, I hear the door open. I identify him by his heavy footsteps, without lifting my view off my nails. Maybe he thinks I didn't hear him come in because he greets. It doesn't take more than twenty seconds until he opens the first bottle. I sigh loudly so that he can hear my frustration. Finally, I raise my head and put the little bottle of nail polish down.

"You're aware that you can not do that. Think of them," I say and glare at him. How many times did I already try to keep him off the bottle? He never listened, but instead insulted me.

I hear the rattling of his bottle and watch him while he pours himself a drink. He clearly built up some muscles and looks healthier. What have Peeta and Katniss forced him to? I can't help a smirk at that thought.

He settles down on the couch powerlessly. He drinks in hasty gulps as if his life depends on it. Then he wrinkles his nose and his eyes darts in my direction the first time. "Can't you make this somewhere else? I don't want to die of oxygen poisoning just because you don't do that shit in your car."

I narrow my eyes and stare at my nails. The nail polish smell is pungent but you get used to it. Haymitch always has to overact. "You're free to go," I reply spiky and grab the pink bottle.

He mutters something under his breath which sounds like 'no'. His voice sounds inattentive. In thoughts, miles away.

I grab the rest of my things and sit down on the armchair next to him. "You have a plan," I notice calmly.

Haymitch stretches his legs on the couch and opens his eyes for a brief moment, surveying me. Then, as if something displeases him, he closes them again. He probably waits for me to leave him alone so he can try to sleep. The last few years I recognized that he hardly sleeps at night rather in the early morning hours. How long have I actually known him? Eleven years? Both of us changed a lot.

Although he still makes me furious. Every year again. And it looks like that he's even a grouch when he's sober. It wasn't always like that, a voice in my head whispers but I ignore it.

"You're their mentor but you may not forget that I am their escort. I should know about it," I enlighten him with a wisp of acrimony in my voice.

Haymitch gives me a tired look. His grey eyes almost seem frantic. Actually, Haymitch Abernathy doesn't show his feelings in public. I learnt that too. The two changed him. They gave him hope. "Just leave it be, sweetheart," he says before standing up and leaving the car.

I stare at my hands and wonder what he might think about me. What he might have thought about me back then. The crazy Capitol bitch who thinks she knows how they feel. I don't pity him. It's his own fault for who he became. But I start to doubt that he could have prevented it.

oOo

When it's time for dinner I knock at Katniss and Peeta's door. Haymitch will appear on his own if he's hungry.

And he does.

We silently sit at the table. The atmosphere is getting moody. Yet, I try to give the conversation a push…to little avail. Sometimes a comment from Peeta, nothing else. Katniss seems deep in thought and Haymitch braces himself to resist the liquor.

"I love your new hair, Effie," Peeta says, anxious to sound carefree. He doesn't want to think about leaving his family. He probably knows that he's not coming back. But neither does he seem to regret it.

Across the table, I give him a smile. "Thank you. I had it especially done to match Katniss's pin. I was thinking we might get you a golden ankle band and maybe find Haymitch a gold bracelet or something so we could all look like a team," I tell him and the others about my idea.

"I think that's a great idea," Peeta says and sounds very interested. "How about it, Haymitch?" To be honest, I'm not quite sure if Peeta really means it or just said it to diffuse the tension. I look expectant at Haymitch. I'm sure he'll tell me the truth.

"Yeah, whatever," he says and I notice he's still fighting against the liquor. Silently, I give the Avox, who's serving us, a signal that he can take my glass away. A team supports each other, isn't that so? And so far, I have never seen Haymitch in this condition. I throw him a quick glance and see that he's staring at me. Just for a moment, though, then his gaze darts back to his plate.

"Maybe we could get you a wig, too," Katniss suddenly bursts out with. It's the first time I hear her speak today. She smirks over at Hamyitch.

Haymitch ignores her and pitches into the dessert as well as the others. In the first moment, I'm always wondering why they scoff their food as if they'd never see any ever again while I eat in pleasure. But then I always have to think about the matter of fact that once there was a time they probably didn't and I'm embarrassed by my thoughts.

After they finished eating I suggest to watch the recap of the reapings. Although I'm not even finished with the main course, I glance at my clock, get up and sit down again on the couch. The others follow me tentatively. Peeta's holding a notebook. Thereon, I realize how much this Games distinguish from previous. His fingers clasp the book like an essential organ.

The recap begins and even I recognize some of the victors. And it's an absolutely shock. When Finnick stands on that podium, I throw Haymitch a shattered glance but I don't dare say anything. Suddenly, I need all my strength not to scream. Finnick can impossibly go back into thearena!

I met Finnick a year after he won his Games as the youngest victor ever crowned. He was very good looking for his age and a real charmer in front of the cameras. But reality was different. Finnick is one of the few friends of Haymitch who has always been kind and polite with me. He's a good boy but his look quickly became his fate. He hung around a lot with Haymitch and Chaff after his victory. But he also gladly talked to me.

He had two years until they began to sell his body. I remember the evening he came to our floor, shaking with fear and telling us everything. It was the first time I became aware of the dread some victors had to deal with. Haymitch immediately knew there was no way out without getting Finnick's loved ones killed. But he helped him as much as he could. I automatically wondered if they attended the same with Haymitch. I don't know. I never found out. And to ask him such a thing would be totally rude.

He was sixteen at that time. Now, eight years later, he somehow got used to it. But he doesn't deserve going back to the arena.

Haymitch returns the look and anyone can see that he isn't pleased at all. Haymitch was for Finnick always a person he could look up to. Not a father, but someone he could trust.

We can do nothing more than follow the events on the screen. They're just recaps, we couldn't do anything even if we wanted. Yet still, my mouth falls open when Mags volunteers for Annie Cresta. Mags, another friend of Haymitch. Luckily, Katniss and Peeta sat down on the armchairs in front of us. They're too entranced by the screen to see my reaction.

As only living female victor from 7, Johanna gets reaped. Johanna always behaved very rude towards me. I don't like her very much.

Then Chaff is reaped and suddenly doubts casts in my head. It's so obvious, I need a second to think about it. This is Haymitch's squad. They're his family, part of his lonely life after his victory twenty five years ago. And as much as Haymitch wants to deny his feelings, he can't deny that those people became as close to a family as they ever could. Even I noticed that.

I risk a gaze at him and see his expression closing up. No evidence of weakness. Of course not, this is still Haymitch. Even in the arena, he would have a mocking smile on his lips. If he's angry, he hides it very good. He almost looks content.

The anthem begins to play and the screen goes black. Haymitch is immediately on his feet and leaves the car. Maybe he's angry. I grab my things with a sigh, wish Katniss and Peeta a good night, and make my way to my compartment. This is going to be a long night.

I tiredly put my clipboard and the other documents on the nightstand. Actually, I should lay down and try to sleep but I can't. Once I sit on my bed, it's obvious that I will never find sleep tonight.

I just embosomed them, almost lost them once and now they're going to make me lose them again. And that's what terrifies me the most. The Capitol is my home.

I boggle at my thought: how easy I call them my family. But it's true. Somehow. And after Katniss and Peeta survived the arena, I thought they were finally out of danger.

Achingly slow, I peel off my dress and put it back in the plenty filled wardrobe. Then I look for a nightgown. It's deep blue and hardly reaches my knees. I don't remove my wig and make-up. The others shall not see me without if I meet someone in the hallway.

I open the door and make a step into the hallway. My naked feet toddle silently over the carpeted floor. I like the tickling feeling the carpet leaves on my toes when I let my feet slide over it.

It's chilly around my legs but it's my size that bothers me the most. I'm at least one head smaller without high heels and I wear them ever so often that I virtually got used to it.

I hear a barely sensible breeze in the background, probably because the train moves so fast. I glance in the direction of the lobby and see a light shining. Of course I could look and see who of them is still awake and join but I never did so why should I do now? I want to stay alone tonight anyway, to clarify the mess in my head.

Carefully, I peer into the last car before I enter it quietly and close the door. At the end of the car, windows have been set into the walls so one can look out undisturbed. I drop down on the seating surface with a smile, bend my knees so they have space on the edge and look out into the never ending darkness of the night.


	2. On The Surface

**On The Surface**

„Well, what brings you here, sweetheart?“

I'm so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't notice his presence. Startled, I spin around. How long is he already standing in the doorframe?

Haymitch just stands there, with the ghost of a grin on his lips and a bottle of wine in his hand. His blonde hair falls in dirty strands over his forehead. He didn't even bother to brush it properly.

My nightgown suddenly seems too generous. I'm thankful, though, that I didn't put my make-up off. Without respond, I stand up and want to pass past him, when he starts to survey me.

„You're teensy“, he remarks and laughs amused. „How's air down there?“

I shoot him an angry look but it doesn't seem to bother him. I escape abruptly of the car, calling out to him across my shoulder: „Better mind not being too drunk until dawn!“

I know he heard it, but he doesn't answer. He made short work with sobriety, but everyone could have figured out this would happen once he gets his fingers back on the liquor. Although my behavior wasn't quite proper either.

Once I reach my rooms, I lock the door behind me. I silently set about removing my wig. It's fixed in my hair with lots of little pins. It takes a while until I have them removed completely. I untie the braid, which held my hair in place under the wig, and a moment later it falls in soft curls over my shoulders. Then, I deal with my face. Luckily it's a lot easier to remove the oodles of make-up.

An entire other woman eyes me out of the mirror. Without the make-up, the faked smile and the artificial hair I look like a totally new human being. I even feel like it. Only now, I can see the diverse emotions flickering in my eyes, having been suppressed by the make-up before. My feelings are a secret I hide through my make-up. Eventually, I am the only one ever seeing me like this.

oOo

Today's highlight is the opening ceremony. Especially for the Capitol citizen a peculiar moment, seeing their favorite victors of the past years again. I started the day with mixed emotions, sitting ready prepared at the table in the Training Center.

Katniss and Peeta left after our arrival in the hands of their prep teams. Haymitch didn't bother to show up. He's probably sleeping off his hangover.

I bring our last nights’ odd meeting in the train in mind and bend over my folder with a sigh. All important sponsors, Haymitch and I are about to meet, are listed there. Some of them already supported us last year while others are new. A look at my clock reveals that it's almost time for lunch. I'm not sure if I should wake Haymitch or let him sleep in peace. Eventually I decide to do the former.

I pause in front of Haymitch's door and knock. No reaction. I knock again, this time more intensively. „Haymitch?“ Then finally, I hear him mutter something from inside. „It's already noon“, I try to explain my appearance. „I thought, maybe you'd like to eat something?“ Somehow I feel foolish, standing here in in front of his door and requesting him for lunch.

I'm utterly surprised when he opens his door after all. He has dark circles under his eyes, therefore he didn't get much sleep last night. His grey eyes are glassy, what tells me that the alcohol not fully left his body yet. Although he doesn't looks angry, what I interpret as a good omen. His mask falters for a brief moment and I can see pain in his eyes.

„Are you all right?“ My voice sounds much too pitying and I can tell upon his reaction that he doesn't want my pity. But I don't pity him, do I?

„I'll be right there, just give me five minutes“, he says and slams the door in my face. His behavior leaves a lot to be desired but I'm used to it ultimately.

„It won't do any harm to follow some manners“, I say enraged, still facing the door. Then I head back to the living room. I know that he heard me through the door.

After fifteen minutes, he turns up fully dressed. Admittedly, his hair isn't brushed but at least he wears a new shirt. We have lunch brought in silence. While I eat, I bend over the folder and peruse the sponsors again. I don't need to lift my head to know that Haymitch is totally immersed by the meal.

Eventually, the table is long cleared, I run out of steam and get sick of the sight of the sponsors. With a muffled tone, I shut the folder. Haymitch turns his head off his drink in wonder and glares at me across the table.

I don't want to talk to him, so I ignore him and take out my notebook. I glance at the few sketches which grace the first pages. They're not beautiful but they help to distract myself. For a while, I doodle around, abstracted.

Then, Haymitch suddenly bursts out laughing. He looks totally amused. I wince in shock and look up, startled. Our eyes meet. I rise my eyebrows in question.

He laughs so heavily, he needs a minute to recover. „You actually chew on your pencil“, he bursts out. He grins from ear to ear.

My face abruptly goes bright red, what he -due to my make-up- luckily can't see. Then, I look down at my pencil and I notice he's right. I didn't even recognize, but there clearly are dental impressions discernible. How embarrassing! My mother would be furious at my lack of manners. And then of all things, Haymitch had to catch me. He of all people, who I jumped at because of his behavior more than once.

I raise my head and try to not look affected.

He must see the shame in my eyes because he doesn't seem to make fun of me anymore. „Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't tell anyone“, he says conciliatorily and gives me a crooked smile, even a wink.

Before my brain can react, my lips already curve into a faint smile. Wow, now I can't even trust myself anymore. I'm sitting in the Training Center und give _Haymitch Abernathy_ a smile. Now he really must think I've gone mad. I never smile at him. The time of grins and smiles is long gone. Except the fake smiles. But this one wasn't fake. And because of that fact, I feel all the more stupid.

Before he can say anything that would make me feel more foolish than I already do, I grab my things together, excuse myself, and flee the room.

Back in my room I want to put the notebook back on the nightstand when the scratch catches my eye. It feels as if the blood in my veins freezes. Thunderstruck, I pause in my movement and stare at a girl's face. She cannot be older than thirteen. Her eyes stick out in fear and her hair falls in untidy curls over her shoulders.

It takes me a moment to recognize her, but when I do, a terrified noise escapes my mouth. I drop the book as if it burned me.

It's the twelve years old girl I reaped three years ago as female tribute for District 12.

She didn't make it past the Cornucopia. Twelve years old. She had all her life ahead. Innocent. _Dead_.

And it's all my fault.

oOo

The sun disappears behind the first Capitol buildings when Haymitch tramps out of his room. He wears a black suit and his hair is finally brushed properly. I let out a relieved sigh, we're already late enough. „You're late“, I snap. The words sound more strident than intended. I clench my hands to fists so they won't tremble. I didn't fully come to terms with the shock from before, yet.

I'm wearing a knee-length dress, dyed in various shades of red. It even has some ruffles presented on my shoulders. Along with it, my golden wig which I teamed with a pair of golden high heels.

„Whatever, ready when you are“, says Haymitch. The request in his voice is unmistakable.

Together, we walk to the elevators. The silence between us isn't that bad. Through it, I have enough time to collect my thoughts.

It doesn't take us long until we reach the neighboring Remake Center. Nevertheless, we come too late. Katniss and Peeta already took their marks, so we won't catch sight of them before the opening ceremonies begin.

The citizens' spirit seems to hit bottom. Most people are sobbing and crying, just giving vent to their emotions. Even in the Capitol they're people who don't recommend throwing former victors in the arena again.

There's still an awkward silence between Haymitch and I. I grab the chance to stuff the empty space with chatter. „It doesn't sit well with some citizen that former victors are going back to the arena“, I try to mention as casually as possible, but I watch his reaction out of the corner of my eyes.

He screws up his face as if I said something disparaging. „Once the blood starts flowing they'll get over it“, he says disgusted and crosses his arms.

It's no secret what Haymitch thinks about the Capitol and its citizen. _I won't,_ I would have liked to reply but remain silent.

Because in this moment, District 12's chariot drives up. Peeta and Katniss look breathtaking. Katniss's hair was styled the same way as at last year’s reaping. But otherwise as last year, her face is covered with make-up. Although the highlight is a raven-black dress which seems to be on fire. Peeta is suited in her style. They look straight ahead, seriously, and don't turn to the crowd.

„They look powerful“, I whisper dignified. _They look dangerous._

As they reach the City Circle, we leave to catch them in time.

„Effie!“ A voice suddenly trills behind us. I would have recognized it everywhere.

„Octavius.“ My accent mixes into my voice again. We clasp into each other’s arms. „It's been a long time.“

Octavius, an early schoolfriend on my part and the son of a sometime acquaintance of my father's, gives me a genially smile. His hair is dyed dirty blonde -his real hair color is brown- and he wears a matching suit, yet fairly revealing. „I have no clue“, he purrs and thinks about it. „Definitely much too long!“

We chat about irrelevances and he tells me that he's the new member of District 6's prep team. Because we're both involved, we don't have much time for chatter. When I turn around to Haymitch shortly afterwards, he already made off. Seeking, I look around the bottom level of the Remake Center and spot him on the other side of the hall. Next to him, his longstanding friend Chaff, his partner Seeder, and Katniss and Peeta.

I approach them and see how easy they all go around one another. Seeder embraces Katniss, Chaff gives her a smooch right on her mouth and then turns to Haymitch. His broad laughter can be heard across the whole bottom level. They're all in high spirits, without thinking about rules or manners. It's admirable how natural it comes to me. Just because I know them for so long.

Just now, I wanted to go over when it suddenly hits me that I maybe should give Haymitch his little reunion. I believe it's the best leaving them on their own, so they can interchange without ruffle or excitement.

Suddenly, Finnick comes into my mind. It doesn't take long until I spot him with his escort Lillian. I don't like her quite much, she's divorced from reality and arrogant, but Finnick knows how to keep her at bay. I walk over to him, beckoning to attract his attention. When he spots me in the crowd, his expression relaxes.

„Effie!“ He sounds relieved. He bumps into my arms with a half grin and I struggle to keep myself on my feet. I chuckle to myself.

„What a day“, I murmur scattered when I break away from him. I give Lillian a look whom she responds with a touch of irritation. She whispers an excuse and walks away.

Once we're alone I drop my facade. „I can't believe it. Can this be true?“

Finnick shakes his head preoccupied and his eyes hurry inattentive over the crowd. „Of course“, he responds honestly. „They have us standing there where they wanted us. All potential dangers cleared away in one sweep. Really clever, but crazy. But also predictable to the previous happenings.“

I try to absorb his words and lean backwards to look straight in his eyes. „Which previous happenings?“

„You mustn't know about it“, he says certainly. „Haymitch is going to kill me if I tell you. Since the last games, he accounts everything for possible danger.“ Finnick and I are always honest with one another. I'm thankful for that, because Haymitch never tells me anything.

That Haymitch actually worries about something is new to me, but I remember his words at the Justice Building and understand what Finnick wants to express. „I won't tell him anything.“

He sighing ruffles his hair. „There were uprisings. Not in Four yet but people talk about it. Speculations.“

_Not in Four yet._ As if Finnick waited for the uprisings to spread. „That's horrible.“ And it is horrible. But totally senseless.

Something in his eyes flashes. After a while of silence he clears his throat. „Yeah...“

„How's Annie doing?“, I eventually ask because I can't get the pictures out of my head. I know what she means to him. Haymitch and I have seen how hard he fought to get her out of that arena alive. We knew how that story goes.

„She's okay.“ That settles the matter. He needs time. I pat his arm and then excuse myself. Embittered, I slash myself a way through the crowd of victors, mentors and prep teams, almost running to the elevators before anybody else comes up with the idea of starting a conversation with me.

After the door finally closes behind me, I notice how surprised I really am. _Uprisings_. What does that mean for us? The others will take after me soon for dinner, which is why I can't let myself overwhelm by my emotions.

I’m already on my way to the dining room when another elevator arrives on the level. I freeze at Haymitch's sight. Did he follow me? Did he hear the conversation between Finnick and I? I can't quite hide my surprise. To be honest, I don't know at all what to do now. He confuses me.

„Where are you going?“, he asks me and lightly raises his eyebrow. It lets him look absurd.

I just stare at him for a moment. When I realize that he waits for an answer, I think about something. Of course, I won't tell him the truth. My feelings and thoughts have nothing to do with anyone apart from myself at last.

„I wanted to avoid to be stuck in an elevator with ten other people. Especially considering that I have the longest way“, I say. I know that he won't argue with me about that because it's a typical Capitol answer. And he hates the Capitol.

For a moment, we remain silent and watch each other. Then, Haymitch suddenly says something that totally takes me off guard. „Princess, you should chew on your pencil more often, it's a nice sight.“

Utterly surprised, I open my mouth to respond something about his lacking manners, but I can't. My mind's still trying to parse his words. I pray that he's not seeing the burning cheeks under my make-up. Was that his usual mocking? Or was it possibly even a compliment?

Haymitch smirks and turns to the elevators where Katniss and Peeta just get off, looking very pleased with himself. Katniss looks annoyed by something. Now, that Haymitch turned his back on me, I can't hide the ghost of a smile. But then Haymitch suddenly stops dead in his tracks and I almost run into him. I come to his side and eye him concerned.

His expression has nothing in common with the one some seconds ago. A twinge of confusion flashes over his face. Then, it hardens. He stares at Katniss and doesn't even seem to notice me. Better that way, I guess.

Not until then I realize that he isn't staring at Katniss, but at something behind her. Or someone. Because when I take a step forward, I spot them. It's the redheaded Avox girl from last year. By her side, another Avox, also redheaded.

„Looks like they've got you a matched set this year“, it slips out of my mouth, smiling so we can broach the subject. But I obviously miss the point. Haymitch glares at me, not even hiding his irritation. From his point of view, Avoxes shouldn't even exist. But I am from the Capitol and was raised to see the Avoxes as a part of our society. Even though they're actually nothing else but slaves. _Slaves_. The word describes the same but is, according to my opinion, much worse.

Haymitch bolts forward to Katniss, who is slowly approaching the two Avoxes, and grabs her arm to withhold her. God knows why he's making such a fuss. Katniss, who suddenly seems startled, tears away from Haymitch’s grip and disappears in the direction of her room. Without acknowledging me another look, Haymitch beckons Peeta over and disappears with him.

I'm alone again. Both Avoxes are staring at me. Not angry but with a certain blame in their eyes. They're aware that I could punish them for it. A spate of shame settles in my stomach. While they look me, I suddenly get the feeling that I did something wrong. But I didn't.

oOo

Shortly afterwards, we get together for dinner. Cinna and Portia join us tonight. Last year, they've been the only reason Haymitch and I weren't at each other's throat. It's different this year. We chatter exuberantly about the opening ceremonies, maybe tattle a bit about some other costumes. I laugh a lot.

But obviously, not everyone is in a good mood. Katniss hasn't said a word and stares at her plate and from time to time to our new Avox who serves us tonight. And Haymitch drinks. Not much but it's enough to stop taking part in the conversation. He just comments every so often in his usual temper. I try not to bother.

I'm fully preoccupied in the conversation so I frighten all the more, when Katniss drops a bowl of peas to the floor. From the corner of my eye, I can see as she kneels down to gather up the peas. A moment later, the redheaded Avox boy kneels by her side and does his job. Precarious, I glance to Cinna and Portia. Seeing Katniss, who barely talked to us in days, getting into a tangle makes me furious.

„That isn't your job, Katniss!“, I snap at her with an annoyed voice. She sits down in silence and starts to stare at her plate again, her lips pressed together into a thin line.

I turn around to face the others again and get a glare from Haymitch. But it doesn't put me out of my stride because he knows I'm right.

Shortly afterwards, we sit down together on the massive couch in front of the TV to watch the opening ceremonies' recap. I sit down between Portia and Haymitch. I quickly cross my legs and fold my hand in my lap. I can smell the liquor in Haymitch's hand and turn my head disgusted to Portia to chat with her.

When the recap is over, Katniss is the first on her feet and gives Cinna and Portia her praise for their great work. I'm really happy how her manners have improved since last year.

„Remember we meet tomorrow morning for breakfast at nine to discuss our training strategy“, I remind the others and try to let my voice sound cheerful. But with the looks they're giving me, they haven't missed the regret.

We all know there won't be two victors this year. Anyway, the odds are bad enough. The other victors know each other all along. Plenty of them have been or still are mentors.

Haymitch and I will have to make an effort to make a good impression tomorrow, at the first meeting with the teams to obtain confidence. But in light of the facts I don't believe it's going to be that hard. Haymitch should know them all.

I go to sleep in time to be up and about again early tomorrow morning. I'm probably going to be the first one being awake, it was the same last year.

Once I turn the lights off, I fall to a sleep which won't give me a calm night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the second chapter. Thank you so much for your feedback! From now on, I'll update this story every three weeks. I hope it's not too long for you, but I'm currently writing three storys at once, so I can only update one story per week. I'd be very happy to receive some feedback from you!


	3. Behind The Mask

** Behind the Mask **

Like I predicted, I’m the first one sitting bright-eyed and wide awake in the dining-room, cozily drinking a coffee, while I watch the sun rise above the buildings of the Capitol. It relaxes me to gaze out of the window, into an everyday life. It distracts me. _It prevents me from thinking about last night._

Yesterday, I got the boys the promised accessories which I'm about to give them, when they show up for breakfast. Which should be in some minutes. _We are a team._

I turn around just in time to see Haymitch, with Peeta in tow, appearing in the doorframe. Katniss isn't with them. For some reason I don't wonder much, she doesn't like to obey orders. They wish me a good morning and get their breakfast at the large buffet. When they join me at the table, I give them an exited look.

„What's on?“, Peeta immediately asks.

I rummage around in my purse and hand each of them a flat navy case. I watch them with tightly pressed lips as they open the boxes. Peeta's eyes promptly start to shine. He takes the golden chain bracelet and beams me a bright smile. „Thank you so much, Effie“, he says thankfully. „It's absolutely perfect. Could you fix it, please?“

Highly pleased, I give him a smile and stand up to close the clasp in his neck. „I’m happy you like it“, I reply, still a smile on my lips. „We're a team after all!“

Peeta's reaction is just what I hoped for. I curiously look at Haymitch, who carries the bangle somewhat doubtfully in his hand. After Peeta's reaction I'm steeled for everything. But eventually, he ends up nodding and muttering a thank you under his breath before turning to his food.

I try to hide my smile when he puts the bracelet around his wrist and eyes it from all sides. His face is reddened from alcohol and I let out an inaudible sigh. Why is it so hard for him to stop the drinking?

„What about Katniss?“, I ask, but both, Peeta and Haymitch, just shrug.

„She's doing unwell“, Peeta carefully answers and takes a bite of his bread. It's not the bread from the Capitol, but one from the districts. Twelve, I suppose.

After we exchanged some words, Haymitch suddenly begins to survey me from top to bottom. „You're planning to meet the other mentors like this?“

Haymitch and I are going to meet the other districts' escorts and mentors to become acquainted with each other. It can be a benefit knowing one another, considering a possible alliance of our tributes in the arena.

Perplexed and a bit offended, I lower my head and look at myself. His words were definitely no compliment, even Peeta heard it. I made a great effort with my outfit. A sweet pink cocktail dress with a lot of ruffles, a rose-colored wig, also elaborately decorated with one single ruffle. And thereto neon-pink high heels, which almost reach my knees. Along with it, I brightened my complexion, put a pink lipstick on and varnished my nails fitting. More than usual. It's a special occasion at last.

„What's wrong with it?“, I spit back and stare at him, furiously.

He begins to laugh and points at me. „Sweetheart, we're primarily meeting with the mentors from other districts“, he says amused. „They don't go for fancy Capitol fashion and especially not for Capitols who pretend to be the most important human beings in the world. The limelight hog act won't work. It's going to gross them at most because they think the Capitol's bullshit, just like I do.“ He's smirking at me now and I almost lose my temper. Not because he insulted my home, though. Maybe I should worry about that, but I can't.

„Are you even aware, how long it took me to look like this?!“ My hands cruise along my body to reveal what I'm talking about.

„No idea“, he admits. „Whatever, are you aware that less can be more sometimes?“ One can see that he's tired of discussing about my clothing. Peeta just sits next to us in silence and sips his hot chocolate, definitely amused. I shoot him a warning glance, but his grin only grows.

Sighting, I sit down again and notice just now that I stood up in fury. „For you and the other districts maybe, but not for the Capitol!“ It's not just that. The idea of me meeting the others without a proper outfit frightens me. Not because I’ll have less make-up in my face, but because they're going to see _me_. And that's not an option.

„Then go and make a start! Instead of always thinking about yourself and your goddamned look, you could withhold and adjust yourself, make a better impression what results in Peeta and Katniss perhaps having a better chance!“ He strikes the table with the flat of his hand, not even bothering to hide the irritation. I promptly flinch. Peeta's hot chocolate slops over the rim of the mug and disgorges over the table. I protectively pull away my documents. His last word in this matter. Silently, I stand up, wish Peeta good luck and clear off back to my room.

There, I take a look at myself in the mirror. It's big enough to see my complete body. Is Haymitch right? I try to imagine what effect it might have for a district man, if I burst in like this. He would probably be surprised because one doesn’t often catches sight of a Capitol in the districts. But odd? The make-up beams in my eyes. No district woman would ever hide her true skin color under quantities of powder. At least, I've never seen any women in the ranks of teenagers at the reaping in District Twelve doing it. Maybe they just can't afford make up.

I come to the horrible conclusion that Haymitch might be right. Thinking that is odd, but saying it aloud or really changing my clothes because of him is even worse. It would be out of question at any other time, but it's about Katniss and Peeta and not about me. It could be about their lives.

I remove all the make up and take off my wig. Of course, I’m not going out like this. Nobody except of my family ever saw me like this. Bare faced. Blonde.

My mother would probably pillory me for this disgraceful deed.

In the end, I'm wearing a plain black floor-length dress, powdered in my skin tone and rouged. I also removed the fake eyelashes and put some mascara on instead. Sighting, I eye myself in the mirror and choose a platinum blonde wig without any accessories. The synthetic hair falls over my head in a pretty braid.

Only then, I quit my room. Haymitch already awaits me. And again, he eyes my outfit top down. He nods. „There we go, sweetheart.“ He knows how much overcoming it took me to appear in front of him like this. I can see it the way he looks at me.

While the elevator begins to move, Haymitch tells me about the kids' first impressions of the other victors. „They don't want to form an alliance“, he says. „It's going to be a damned disadvantage. The others are knowing one another from years of mentoring.“

„Language“, I chide him and click my tongue in annoyance. „You can hardly force them to it. Give them a chance to get them known better, maybe they're going to change their minds“, I point out and get an approving look from him. He obviously seems surprised by my words. Wise words. _As if I usually twaddle around._ But I don't say that aloud. 

Arrived at main floors, the first thing I notice is that they're definitely more than just escorts and mentors around. Some stylists and members of the prep teams are also attendant. Haymitch directly guides me to Chaff and Seeder. Shouldn't they be present at training? Haymitch doesn't seem to bother.

Seeder nods in my direction and Chaff just gives me his wolfish grin because he knows it's going to exasperate me. I respond with an overstated smile.

Chaff thrusts a red drink into Haymitch's hand and laughs as he spots my reaction. I roll my eyes, something that I actually wouldn't have done, but we already know us for so long and he knows I'm not like the other escorts. He knows that I try my best. The only thing Haymitch does, is throwing Chaff a glance I can't interpret. Chaff almost roars with laughter.

Their glasses are empty all too fast and while both of them go to get themselves another drink, I try to start to get into conversation with Seeder. She's the only one in our little group I don't know a thing about. „Why aren't you attending training? Not that it’s obligatory but it could certainly be very useful.“ I don't bother with the affected accent when I talk to people from the districts. A glimmer of real interest resonates in my voice.

She laughs and besides her folds, foveolaes emerge at the corners of her mouth. „We make nothing of it“, she admits without any taunt in her voice. „At all those young victors, it would almost be a miracle if one of us came out from there. We know it's gonna be our last few days and we try to enjoy them as far as it's possible in a place like the Capitol.“

For a brief moment, I wonder why she isn't afraid of saying such a thing aloud so that everybody could pick it up. Then I remember that it wouldn't change anything because she's probably going to be dead in a couple of days. All at once, I pity her. How horrible it must be to know you're days are numbered. I hardly believe I would withstand such a strain. And now that she replied so honest I don't know what to respond. The Capitol didn't prepared me for this. _Neither did it for all the dead._

I lower my voice when another thing comes to my mind. „What happened to the families of Thresh and little Rue?“ I dimly remember what Peeta's and Katniss's words at Victory Tour might have caused.

„They're alive“, Seeder says and smiles but I hear the surprise in her voice as I -a woman from the Capitol who reaps children for the Hungergames- show concern for the affected families. And she seems to bias me in a positive way. I recognize that when she stops looking at me as if I come from another planet.

I beam her a smile. At that moment, Haymitch and Chaff return. They're in a wanton mood and joke around like they always do. But when Haymitch spots my smile, he looks as if he was flabbergasted. „What did we miss?“, he asks immediately.

I shake my head, not able to reply something.

Therefore, Seeder has an answer on hand. When I saw her hugging Katniss yesterday, I thought she was a very calm and kind person. Now she seems more like honest and frankly. „I just assured myself that she isn't one of those Capitol bitches“, she bluntly says. „Better feel blessed, Haymitch. Our escort greeted us with tears of joy and told us how great this year's idea of the Quell is.“ She points at me. „She doesn't seem to be one of those.“

I feel how my cheeks turn red and give her a thankful smile before I awkwardly lower my gaze to the floor. Still, I sense Haymitch's eyes on me. He must be surprised, to hear his friend talk about me like that.

„Leave poor Flora out of this“, jokes Chaff. „She doesn't have anything to do the whole year, but wait for the next games. I feel certain that Trinket has more hobbies.“ At it, he winks at me. „Don't you feel the need to share it with us?“

Without glancing at Haymitch, I lift my head and eye Chaff. Obviously, he wants to play a game. But I guess he isn't aware that I can play that game too. „This and that but you know, I'm a very busy woman“, I say and beam him a sweet smile. „Although, my true pleasure is architecture.“

Chaff laughs and shakes his head to and fro. Haymitch is silent as I hardly see him. „I always knew there was more than just manners and clothes.“ His fingers wave in front of my face. He definitely drunk too much. „Funny thing for an escort, don't you think?“ He doesn't talk to someone particular. For a moment, I think he wants to fool me like he always does. He changes a look with Haymitch.

„My father is an architect. He's a very well-known man“, I say to Chaff, more strident than I insisted. „He created the new part of the presidential palace“, I add and don't know why I even come up with this matter. Silence.

„I heard one has to be very smart for that kind of job“, Seeder suddenly bursts out in a strange tone and for a brief moment, recognition dawns her face before she goes poker-face again.

Suddenly, I have to laugh. It's hard to keep the picture of my mother out of my mind and her comment about my inappropriate behavior, but I can't help myself, now that I've realized what Seeder meant. „Rational reasoning wouldn't be amiss“, I say in a joking tone but the truth is, I want to prove Haymitch wrong. „When one miscalculates about one angular degree at the construction of a roof, it's possible that the roof's going to collapse even before the whole storefront has been built!“ Haymitch's behavior is strange. His expression hardens and he exchanges a look with Chaff, who seems a bit too silent.

Awhile, I continue talking with Chaff and Seeder. Gossip, nothing serious. I notice how Chaff unsuccessfully tries to involve Haymitch into our chatter. Although he's just standing a meter away from me, it seems as if he is at a completely different place. Inconspicuous, when he thinks I wouldn't recognize, he considers me from aside. I guess that it just doesn't go in his head that I might be more than fake visage and odd behavior. Hilarious, considering that we already work together more than ten years.

Then, two hands suddenly block my view and rip me out of my thoughts. My heart skips a beat and I jump.

„Euphemia Trinket“, I hear Octavius say, definitely trying to mimic my mother's voice.

If he saw the frightened expression flashing over my face for a second, he's good hiding it. But he probably didn't notice.

„Octavius“, I warble. My voice sounds unlikely to myself. „I thought this meeting was just for mentors and escorts?“ We went to university together. On bad days, he always was keen on a kind word for me. But who were we? We were children. _Teenager_. Both of us went our own way and I'm not even sure I really found the right one. The Capitol doesn't make it easier. I'm trying to keep truth and lies apart. The Capitol isn't bad. There are just people making it look bad.

„Well, nobody send us away so we stayed. Seems as if the other prep teams do the same“, he says and laughs. „Believe it or not, I wanted to check on Six's mentor because Livia had already given up and guess where I found her? She hadn't better to do, but drinking herself to oblivion in her room! She didn't even care for the victors she had to support!“ He sounds so upset, I automatically take a step forward to calm him down. „Those manners are horrible, I- How did you stand that all those years? It's torture! A friend of mine told me they wanted to promote you to Five, but you refused? Isn't it time for a reboot? At least, you have your victors now. And even two in number!“ I totally forgot how fast he can change subjects.

From far away I hear myself laugh. It sounds grotesque and unnatural. „I would never quit Twelve, Octavius! Outer Districts are in a rage again! There, I would never relinquish my job to a cute young girl, who couldn't do it half as good as I do“ I say and hold my side as if it was totally preposterous what he said.

„But Effie, you could get every District, you would just have to ask Plutarch. You're _the_ face in Panem, they would give you any District, you could have them all“, he says and sighs dramatically. He really has much phantasy. If I was the face of the Capitol, my last photo shoot wouldn't have been two months ago. _Look at your sister, Euphemia. She succeeds again and again._

Seeking help, I glance at Haymitch and indicate that he eventually should wake up from his stiffness. Did Octavius's comment about his alcohol-addicted mentor hurt him? He doesn't move a centimeter. Too many information about me in one day. I immediately have to prevent this. So I give him my best smile and say: „Oh, Octavius, you're charming me! But you always did so. Let's talk about you. At last, we hadn't much time for it yesterday and we didn't see us a lifetime before!“

It seems as if he takes the bait because he smiles. But then he opens his mouth and begins to babble again. „After the study, I tried to get accepted at your father's company, but they apparently still wait for you! Sure thing, the odds were never in my favor!“ He laughs and friendly squeezes my shoulder and I immediately know what's going to come now. „Remember when I gave you fifty Dollars to crib your work at that exam? You've always been a tough one.“

I have to laugh straightaway and this time it's real. A memory flashes through my mind. A small part of my childhood which really had been fun, even that my parents were eerily angry with me most of the time. While my sister had always been their showcase, I did things my mother still blames me for sometimes.

„Yes“, I say, still grinning like a fool. „You almost screwed my career up, you idiot! After they caught you, my mother had been informed and I was almost thrown out of the course, just because I defended you afterwards! Since that day, the teacher didn't give me the attention I had gotten before!“ I look at him in acted annoyance.

Octavius laughs, I laugh and for a moment, the world around is forgotten. Then, I vaguely remember that Haymitch's watching this theatre of us. I freeze, let out a deep breath, before excusing myself. I watch him until he disappears in the crowd of people. Biting my lower lip, I turn to Haymitch. I never use expletives in front of him. He shouldn't see me like that. It's not proper.

„And I always believed those Capitol kids were virtuous as sheep“, Chaff bursts out and grins like a Cheshire cat. „She's tough, that one. And hot too.“ Then he grins again, gives Haymitch a wink and nudges Seeder away before any of us can say another word.

The unpleasant silence returns. We manage talking to the mentors of Four and Seven. It's nothing like a sponsor's conversation more as watching Haymitch talk with some old friends. He's carrying most of the conversation while I silently stand next to him and exchange a few words with the escorts. Let him do the rest, he knows them

„I'm sorry“, I say eventually, after Seven's mentor has left. „I didn't intend to let myself go.“

„What the hell are you apologizing for? You're just living your life. I'm the one who should apologize.“

Taken aback by his words, I come to a stand and face him, astonished. „I … I always thought you were not more than another of their damned Capitol dulls. Well … but you're not. You hardly have anything in common with those people.“

I sense a warm feeling rise in my stomach. It spreads into the rest of my body. He probably doesn't realize just how much those words mean for me, far more than for him. No big words, but I understand what he really wanted to say. The kindest he had ever left for me.

Unable to say something, I give him a small smile and immediately wonder what exactly has changed between us since the last Games.

_„Euphemia?“_ I indeed hear the sepsis in his voice but he apparently finds the name amusing.

I press my lips together to hold back the stream of words which I would have fired at him otherwise. „Only my mother calls me that.“

Together, we make our way to the bar and order a drink. I don't have a problem with drinking a glass or two occasionally. He really tries to not exaggerate.

After a long silence and many side glances, he finally utters the words being on the tip of his tongue. „Architecture? I would have guessed you were a model.“ Haymitch doesn't sound very serious but neither amused.

I nod and turn the glass in my hands. „Disappointed?“

„Not really“, he states. „I'm done with people in my surroundings falling for clothes.“

„I _am_ falling for clothes.“ Now, he gives me a small smirk. It's so out of character.

„You seem to like it“, he says and continues when he sees me nod. „Why don't you make it full-time then?“

„Because … you hardly can make history with a building“, I burst out before I can prevent it. I quickly try to row back. „What I mean is, really, how many buildings made history? Through the Games-“ The rest of the sentence is stuck in my throat. _Through the Games you can make history,_ I actually wanted to say, but Haymitch throws me a so destructive look, I directly know that I said something wrong. As he narrows his eyes at me, I'm suddenly very hot. Even though I meant something totally different.

„I think“, he says. „We shouldn't continue this conversation right here.“

I swallow unrecognizable, rise my chin and give him a calm and cool look, before following him with a nod. Of course, I'm aware I shouldn't have said something like this, but it's too late anyway. A bit tipsy, I enter the elevator behind him and when the door closes he stares at me like a hawk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like the chapter? Thank you for the kudos I received so far!


	4. Not That Simple

** Not That Simple **

As the elevator opens its door, he grabs my arm and guides me through the corridor.

I don't even try to break away. He has to be very mad, god knows why. Haymitch always had those bad days, but now that he's actually sober, I guess that I must have truly upset him.

Haymitch leads me past our rooms, upstairs to the terrace. It's odd that I've been up here for just a single time in all those years. I barely even remember it.

The city didn't change a lot. Lights are glowing everywhere, they're so bright that you almost can't see the stars at night. The view to the sky saddens me. It's crowded by clouds.

Then, he finally lets go of me and I stumble forward before I come to a stand in front of the railing. Just the view over the Capitol makes it worth it to come up here. Cars drive down on the streets and a lot of colorful pedestrians walk by. Some of them carry shopping bags in their hands, others drag their children away from the Trainingcenter because they hope to catch a victor.

Somehow, it seems strange to me how they drill their children to watch the Games. They're too young. Suddenly, I have to think about little Rue. About Katniss's words at Victory Tour. _She was too young._ Gwyneth and I were allowed to watch the Games at the age of ten for the first time … 

Haymitch, who probably doesn't have any sensitivity, rips me out of my thoughts in a very harsh way. “What was that supposed to be?“ His voice isn't upset, rather alarmed.

I shrug my shoulders and lean into his direction to be able to look him into his eyes. “I don't know“, I return irritated. “It just slipped out of my mouth.“

My answer seems to make him even madder. “It just slipped out? Effie...“, he sights and tries to find the right words for his thoughts. When was the last time he pronounced my name like this? I can't remember. “It's dangerous to have such thoughts.“ 

I feel the urge to punch him. He must have seen the expression in my face because he stares at me as if I'd behave very silly. “You…- I didn't mean it like _that_ “, I hiss furiously.

Relief flashes in his eyes. My act works. _Hasn't it always worked?_ “Well… to think like that would be very dangerous. And we both don't want to have trouble with the Capitol, do we?“

I give him a smile, nod and act as if I have no clue what he's talking about. But I have. As if he hasn't already enough trouble with the Capitol. And now I know that he has something to do with _it,_ too. Maybe he's just mad at the Capitol for punishing him, but I don't believe it. I can't name it yet but I know that Haymitch Abernathy _never_ takes action without ulterior motives.

oOo

We return to the penthouse and sit down on the couch. “You went to university?“, he asks after a while.

“Yes“, I nod absent-minded and think about my mother and how furious she had been when I told her about my wish to study. She had always been planning glorious modeling careers for Gwyneth and me. Well, it worked with Gwyneth. “Architecture.“

“Why didn't you become a model?“ The same question again. Either he just acts as if he's interested or he forgot that he already asked that question or he just doesn't understand the reason.

“I was a model but my sister was better at it than me“, I say and don't manage to hide the unhappy expression on my face. He wasn't the only one who always reduced me on my outward appearance. He never made the effort to learn who I _truly_ am. I feel the rage, rage that occurs foreign to me. But it hasn't to do with him. “I'm not like my sister. She could wear rags and would still look stunning.“ My voice sounds edgy. But it's true, Gwyneth is a talent. She has always been her favorite child. She did everything to please her, although she had to bury her own identity for it. My mother still brags about her today.

I don't want to talk with him about my sister. The perfect daughter who always made everything the right way. “So what are you doing when you're sober for once?“ I try make the question sound carefree and force a smile on my lips. But the way he looks at me, he doesn't seem to buy it.

It takes full five minutes until he gives me an answer. I already think he ignores me, when he finally clears his throat. “Nothing“, he admits. Judging by his voice, he has difficulties telling me the truth. “After the announcement of the Quarter Quell they cut off the liquor. Peeta threatened everyone who has every sold it to me. We practiced like Careers. Every day.“ He doesn't sound regretting but not happy either.

I stand still and just stare at him. There's nothing that crosses my mind what I could reply.

“It was horrible. Three months without liquor. The first time that I was sober for more than a few days.“ A thin smile graces his face as he says it, but I see the strength he needed to survive those months.

Before I can say a word, he raises his hand. He doesn't want me to pity him. I understand of course … which victor would ever want to get pitied by a stupid escort from the Capitol?

“Would you show me your drawings?“, he suddenly asks. It takes me totally by surprise.

My head rises upwards abruptly and I stare at him with widened eyes. _Never_. They have nothing to do with anyone apart from myself. Besides, they're really bad. „No“, I say and throw a glance at the clock. Suddenly, Katniss and Peeta come to my mind. I totally forgot them.

Thunderstruck, I stand up. “No“, I repeat. „We're late! Katniss and Peeta are going to be dismissed soon!“

Haymitch allows himself plenty of time until he finally gets up from the couch. And as I know him, he only does it to irritate me. When we eventually arrive on the ground floor, they're already waiting for us. Although, they don't seem to be annoyed by our delay. Katniss even looks highly pleased, therefore I assume the very best.

“How was it?“, My voice causes Peeta to raise his head in our direction. He gives me a content nod and tells us about their day. Then, I send them away to have a shower before we start dinner.

oOo

Surprisingly, Haymitch appears first. He somehow makes a tensed impression. Once Katniss enters the dining room, he rushes upon her.

“At least half of the victors want you as an ally. I don't believe it's because of the charming character of yours“, he says and smiles amused.

I gape at him in astonishment and glance at Katniss. Why did they kept such information from us earlier? How did she manage to convince so many victors?

Peeta gives us the answer after he sits down on the opposite of the table. “They saw her shooting with the bow. Honestly, it was the first time I _really_ saw her shooting.” He smiles mischievously but seems to be serious about his words. She must have been very good. _Half of the victors_. That's a lot.

Katniss doesn't seem to be abashed. She tries to face the situation with a neutral attitude. Slowly, she sits down next to Peeta and looks over to Haymitch who took the seat next to me.

“Are you that good?” Haymitch seems to be surprised. “So good that even Brutus wants you?”

_Brutus._ A career. I almost forget how to breath. She must be _phenomenal!_

Katniss, master of the situation, remains totally calm and shrugs her shoulders. She certainly isn't quite interested in Brutus. “I don't want Brutus. I want Mags and the two from Three.”

The first course is served. Haymitch sights and orders himself a bottle of wine. “That figures. I'll tell everyone you have to think about it.”

Katniss throws an angry glance at him. The look in her eyes makes clear that there's no room for discussions.

I think she has to decide on her own whom she wants to ally with. Beetee is a clever man and won his Games through a well-conceived plan. Wiress too. Although, one of the other victors like Finnick or Johanna could as well do it. I don't share my thoughts aloud. The training is Haymitch's specialty and I'm reluctant to blend into his work. He would only have a unfriendly remark on his lips anyway.

Lost in thoughts, I pick at my salad. I'm probably squishing it more than I eat it. But who cares about that? I almost drop my head in my hand, but I think better of it. I still have some manners. Dinner passes by quickly. We change some words here and there but we don't really talk. Peeta and Katniss are tired and so am I. After they withdraw into their rooms, I stand up and wish Haymitch a good night.

oOo

My room is pitch-black. I didn't shut the curtains earlier so some lights from the street bathe the room in a comforting light. I take a look at my alarm on the nightstand. It's past midnight. Actually, I should have been asleep for hours already. But I can't, like so often in the past few days. After I switched off the lights and got into bed, my body had already decided to not return into the land of dreams. It's dangerous there.

My fear chokes me, but I won't move. My stomach hurts. I won't sleep tonight. Every time I close my eyes, I _see_ them in front of me. All the tributes Haymitch and I had been in charge of. All the tributes we weren't able to save.

It had been very bad last night. I walked through a forest. They came from all sides, screaming that I should have done something. That I should have done _more_. Their faces were convulsed, full of scars and some of them missed a part of their body. But they weren't even the worst. It turned really bad when suddenly Katniss and Peeta appeared in front of me. They didn't scream, they just glared at me with dark, bloodlined eyes. _Reproachful_.

oOo

This time, it's my own scream that wakes me up. Before my brain can catch up, I'm already kneeling over the toilet bowl. The shiver doesn't stop. My hearing must have failed for some minutes. I don't hear the sobs until I sit on the bed again, knees pressed to my chest. I want to stop , I don't want them to hear me. They _must not_ hear me. What are they going to think about me otherwise? Overwhelmed, I put a hand on my mouth.

What would my mother do in such a situation? I don't remember her crying, ever. She's Capitol to the bone. She had been educated to be a perfect doll and she educated us just the same. I can't even say what goes through her mind behind closed doors.

While I sway back and forth, my body's trembles finally die down. I can't stay in bed. It leads nowhere trying to fall asleep again. My eyes fall on my alarm. It's four in the morning. With a sigh, I stand up and start to get ready. Shortly afterwards, I leave my room and close the door as quiet as possible. Although, I don't even know how to spend the next few hours.

The sun isn't up yet. There's no light glowing in the hallway. You can't hear a single murmur. In the dark, I try to reach the living room in my high heels. My legs tremble. The fear returns and I have no clue why. I force myself to keep going forward. It would only need one sound to wake up the entire level. Then, I would have to explain why in Panem's name I ghost around the corridors at four in the morning.

After an eternity, I finally reach the living room and sit down at the table. I keep the lights off. Once again, I try to suppress the trembles but it doesn't work. Desperately, I wrap my arms around myself. Although I carry a clock, I don't know when the Avoxes get up to prepare our breakfast.

Now when I think about it, it might has been a stupid idea to take a seat at the table, where everyone can see me. It only takes a short look into my face to figure out how long I've slept last night. Not even make-up can hide it. I feel vulnerable. I should have stayed in bed and lay awake for the next few hours. At least, I would have been safe from foreign eyes. But now I can't get up anymore, it would make too much of a noise.

Slowly, the sun starts to rise. It takes her time today. Thankfully, I turn to the window and try to distract myself just as I did yesterday.

Short afterwards, the first Avox appears and serves me a tea. I take it thankfully. As soon as my hands wrap around the cup, a feeling of warmth spreads through my body. With closed eyes, I take a nip of the tea. I’m warm soon enough and as farer the sun rises, the more the uneasy feeling in my gut disappears. For the first time, I understand why Haymitch dislikes to sleep at night. During the day the fear is easier to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the feedback! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	5. Demons In My Heart

** Demons In My Heart **

Around noon, we pick up Peeta and Katniss on the ground-floor. Haymitch and I didn’t cross paths until then. When I enter the living-room, he’s already waiting for me. He wears a navy blue suit which flatters his blonde hair. To my surprise, he looks spruce.

Coincidentally, I’m wearing a navy blue cocktail dress and a matching blonde wig. I become aware of our identical colors, and for a moment I think about changing my own clothes. But then he turns his head in my direction and it’s too late for a retreat. I wait for him to register my outfit. His lips twitch into a smirk. I hope that he isn’t vain of it, this is a coincidence after all! _Men…_

I walk towards him and he completely turns. A sigh escapes my lips when I see his tie. It’s completely twisted and he didn’t even bother to tie it properly.

Questioning, he lifts an eyebrow and I nod in his direction. “Your tie”, I murmur and as if in trance, I move and before I can prevent it, my fingers are already in his neck. When I realize what I’m doing, I wince back and look him directly in the eyes. He’s lowered his head, a small smile playing around his lips.

It’s a long time since I saw his eyes from so close. They’re grey. Actually, I don’t really like the color but his eyes are from a beautiful shade of grey. And they radiate a calming warmth. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. “Go on”, he demands but his voice sounds infinitely soft. He doesn’t regard me in a mocking way like he usually does.

I do what he says and adjust the tie in less than no time. Pleased, I step back and view him. “We can go now.” Before I’m in mischief, I turn around and rush to the elevators. Haymitch follows me in silence. I can hear his steps behind me.

Now that he can’t look at my face, I think about what just happened between us. Shocked, I note that I let my façade fall again. I dedicated myself to him completely. He cast a spell over me. _Haymitch Abernathy!_ Again, I see his eyes in my mind. Eyes from the seam. Filled with pain. Sadness. Loss.

What is he doing to me? I shake my head and force myself to look straight ahead. The answer is simple. I don’t know.

One of the elevators already reaches our floor and I step in, closely followed by Haymitch. In the years of close collaboration, one learns to sense the other’s proximity. I feel his body behind me and know that he’s looking at me. Eagerly. Maybe he’s waiting for a reaction on my part. But he won’t get one.

In past times, I enjoyed riding the elevator. To fly in the direction of the ground with such a speed fascinated me. I loved to observe the people on the ground-floor, which turned from tiny colorful points to colorful creatures. Nowadays, I almost never notice anymore. I have to care for more important things than the joy of riding the lift. “Ridiculous.”

His head turns to me and he surveys me, wondering. “What’s ridiculous?” Haymitch sounds amused. And I hate _that_. So I ignore him.

The door silently opens, we leave the elevator and go out into the mass. Katniss and Peeta aren’t there yet. We’ll have to wait then. Here and there, people throw us glances but overall we stay unnoticed. Unlike usual, I’m fine with it today.

The day draws to a close and thereby my feeling of safety ends with it. The fear returns. Slowly and creeping, it nestles in my stomach and just waits for the last rays of sun to disappear behind the horizon.

“They’re coming”, Haymitch says and I flinch. I raise my head and watch him. He responds the look and seems somewhat indecisive. Then, as if he knew that I didn’t understood his words, he repeats them. “They’re coming.” He nods in their direction and I follow his eyes.

At first, I don’t see them but when they come closer, I finally recognize them. Chaff and Seeder are walking next to them. They amusedly chatter about something and take their time. I have the chance to push my thoughts aside and put my smile on. When they see us, they beckon us over. In a lazy pace, we approach each other. Peeta’s sight falls on our outfits and he laughs. “Seems as if matching clothes are hot this year in the Capitol.”

Haymitch and I watch each other and I remember the identical colors of our outfits. “It happened accidentally”, I give back and roll my eyes. Haymitch next to me keeps silent and leaves the talking to me. “How did you do?”

„It was interesting“, narrates Peeta, while Chaff hooks up to the boy and whips back and forth. “But we spent most of our time with this slob.” Even Katniss can’t hide a smirk.

I nod once again. Chaff isn’t the victor they should keep company with. Haymitch always has to interfere with my plans. My eyes glance to Seeder, who stares at her district-partner. But Chaff is busy exchanging looks with Haymitch. Then, Chaff lets go of Peeta and slaps Haymitch on his shoulder. “You look bad, my friend. A drink would do you good.”

Haymitch spouts a last hum and begins to move. He doesn’t say anything, he just leaves. Chaff winks at me one last time and drags Haymitch after him.

They disappear with the elevator. As soon as they’re out of sight, Seeder lets out her frustration. “Both of them will keep our floor busy the whole night”, she determines resignedly. “They do so every year. And I hoped he’d control himself better this year.” Then she excuses herself, she throws me a last friendly glance and follows the two men. Probably to prevent the worst chaos. She’s right. They do it every year. But most of the time on _our_ floor.

Haymitch doesn’t show up for dinner. Katniss and Peeta tell me about every little detail of their day, what happened at training. How Finnick taught them to fight with a trident, or how Peeta painted together with the Morphlings. I listen, comment on some points like usually and chuckle, when it amuses me. I’m happy that at least Finnick socialized with them and I try to keep in mind to thank him later.

The children are great company, especially Peeta has always a friendly word on his lips. Just as Haymitch, Katniss lets Peeta do most of the talking, but every so often she participates. It’s already past midnight, when we retire for the night.

I don’t hurry to get to bed. I slowly remove the make-up and change into a silky nightgown. Then, I brush my hair one last time and step to the window. The view is breathtaking. When I close my eyes, I can see myself in the streets of the Capitol. Walking arm in arm with my friends. Ready to make a night of it.

When I think about it now, I feel foolish for hiding behind never ending parties. It had its pleasures, we were young and wanted to win hearts, dance with men and live the life of the privileged. I still like going to parties, but I like them for other reasons now. I think about the children and teenagers in the districts who annually have to fear for their life until their 19th birthday. Suddenly, I wonder why this thought didn’t come to me much earlier.

Exhaustion spreads in my body. The sleepless nights in recent days slowly take a toll on me. Maybe my brain is too tired to give me dreams. The theory is absurd and I know it, but know that I started to think about it, the fear comes back abruptly. It’s unobtrusively crept through my veins the whole day. I know that I have to sleep eventually. For Katniss and Peeta. A tired escort won’t benefit them.

oOo

_I sit up in my bed bolt upright, the blankets wrapped around my legs in an unsettling manner. I strain my ears. I don’t know what it was but it startled me awake. The scream of a woman startles me at once. The scream is high-pitched and cuts through the room, but I know that it’s to come from the outside. She screams something incomprehensible._

_Every cell in my body strives against getting out of bed and checking, but I do it nevertheless. I_ have _to. My room is completely dark. Not even the lights from outside shine through the window. As if the Capitol turned off all its lights._

_Somehow, I finally reach the corridor. It’s pitch-black and I can barely see my own hand in front of my eyes. And still, I spot the shadow standing some meters away from me. I’m sure it isn’t aware that I can see it. My hackles raise and it means danger. I don’t dare to breath or move. But the shadow doesn’t move either. It seems to wait for something._

_I already forgot the true reason for my rising from bed when the scream repeats and echoes through the hallways. Louder and closer this time. The shadow didn’t scream, but it frightens me so much that I lunge back. Suddenly, the shadow raises its head in my direction, as if it didn’t notice my presence until that very moment. Then, it jumps towards me. I scream._

_The shadow rashly approaches me, its arms outstretched. The only clever thing that crosses my mind is take the flight, so I turn around and try to escape. I stumble over the couch and manage to weaken the downfall at the last moment, before I fiercely crash on the ground. But I don’t stop. The force of the fall is so heavy that I slide over the floor. With a noisy blast, I crash into the bar. My cry of pain drowns out the shadow’s steps._

_But I can’t give up. I jump to my feet and find myself in front of my pursuer. Eye to eye. The screams are louder than ever. The second it takes to turn my head to the glass of the windows, who offer a sight at a lightless Capitol, gives the shadow the chance to come a step closer._

_Who is this woman? Where does the screams come from? Did it already hurt her? The scream repeats and this time, I understand. A word. The blood in my veins freezes and I’m unable to move. She doesn’t scream for help. She screams for someone. She screams my name._ My _name._

_Suddenly, the fear is gone. I feel something else devouring through my veins. Much stronger than fear. Anger. I yell at it. Yell at her. The shadow flinches just to return with an army of shadows. I feel encircled, but this is an unimportant detail. They can’t harm me. I just need the bravery to do something they would never expect._

_And when she starts to scream her lungs out again, I make a decision. She calls my name. Frequently. I can only shake my head, helpless. The sound of her voice is familiar to me. I turn around and see my reflection in the window. Something they would never expect. I know she’s there. And she wants me to come for her._

_The glass breaks even before I can lunge my body against it. I didn’t calculate the force of my body correctly, and for a moment I stagger at the edge of the building, under me nothing but the darkness of the city. For a moment, the time seems to stop. As if my fate has to decide what will happen now. But then it’s decided. And I fall, upside down, out of the twelfth floor of the Training Center._

_I silently fly towards the earth. Not a single noise escapes my lips. The dark shadows of the lightless skyscrapers grow bigger with every second. The seems to pass much too slow. I should have hit the ground some time ago. Everything seems to blur in front of my eyes, when I suddenly hear_ them _._

_From all sides, their voices reach my ears. They don’t scream. Their voices increase to a lovely choir that takes care of me. As if they finally accept me as one of their own. I crane my neck to the side and see them. They circle around me, fall with me. And they smile at me. I’ll never forget their faces. And this time there are no body parts missing. They also don’t look hurt, but extremely happy._

_Joy explodes in my chest. They’re alive! They’re doing well! Tears of gladness run over my cheeks. I reach out for them. They hold my hands and push me in their middle. It feels like a reunion. They feel like the family I barely had._

_A tiny hand holds mine. I look up into the face of a young girl. Her eyes shine in an intense green. How could I ever forget this expression? The expression of a malnourished child that properly fills its belly for the first time. The thought brings tears to my eyes again. I want to clasp her into my arms, but then I see the sad smile on her face. “Not yet”, she whispers. “It’s not your time yet.”_

_Then, she lets go of my hand. I scream, but she’s already gone. I realize that no beautiful moment lasts forever. They’ll all disappear. And they do, one by one._

_But not everyone lets go of my hands and disappears into the darkness. Two are still holding on to them. Calm and determined, they look at me. And a smile graces their faces. But when I stare at their expressions, I know that my happiness is nothing but an illusion. The truth is different. Sorrowful, harsh and merciless._

_Then, Katniss and Peeta loosen their grasp, give me one last smile and vanish into the darkness, like all the other tributes before them._

oOo

I hear myself scream. A sob mixes with the noise of it, but I can’t open my eyes. My body is bound to the bed. Suddenly, there’s a pressure on my shoulder. Someone shakes me to and fro. “Wake up!” His voice is rather a pleading than a command. How long is he already here? My thoughts go head over heels.

My heart abruptly misses a beat and I realize that he sees me cry. Fiercely, I try to get my breathing under control and fight against my body, that still doesn’t want to move. My muscles are like a lead weight. Somehow, I manage to open my eyes.

When his sight meets mine, I’m not ready at all. His eyes are full of fear. There’s not a trace of him being drunk. I shake my head, wrench away from his grasp and roll over the bed, till the end of the mattress and press my back against the wall.

I stay in front of the wall, in a defensive attitude, and stare at him with my eyes widened in shock. As if he was the enemy. I look around for the shadow, but there’s nobody here except for him. My crying stops abruptly but my body is still shaking. Slowly, he raises his arms to show me that he’s unarmed. That he won’t do me any harm. Neither of us moves.

After endless silence, he finally finds his voice. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.” His blonde hair falls messily over his forehead and he still wears the suit that he wore this evening, but the buttons of his shirt are open and I can see his bare skin underneath. Pain scuds through my chest, when I think about the things he might have done.

“Go.” Nothing else will escape my lips. I point at the door with my finger.

For a moment, he stares at me with such an intensity that I want to cry again. Then, he stands up. I almost feel bad for sending him away. When I remember to be alone again, I automatically flinch. What’s the matter with me? Where’s the strong woman I usually am? I can’t keep my feelings under control forever. At some point, they’ll descend upon me like a huge wave. 

Before I can hinder it, a single tear breaks loose and runs over my cheek. I can’t hold it back. He hesitates in his movement and looks at me, visibly uncertain. For a moment, his gaze is completely focused, as if he was pondering something.

Then, something unexpected happens. I can’t help it. He steps forward, walks around the bed and pulls me in his arms. Too surprised about his reaction, I don’t resist. I just let him lay his strong arms around me and let him nurse me back and forth. My body betrays me immediately. I feel the sobs push their way up my throat. I don’t know what comes to my mind, when I wrap my arms around his neck. His hand wanders to my head and softly strokes my hair.

My body is shaking. I bury my head in his shirt with closed eyes. For just a moment, I let myself go. It doesn’t matter who I am, why I’m here or what I’m doing. Nothing but this moment counts. He holds me tight and comforts me. And it does me good, it really helps. While he squeezes his forehead against mine, I forget all my fears. I start to exist again. My heart starts to beat again. The blood starts to flow through my veins again.

But no moment lasts forever. My body calms down. I stop trembling. My heartbeat calms down. The sobs become silent. While my brain reboots, I suddenly realize what I’m doing here. My eyes widen and I draw my head back. The salty tears ruined his shirt. I look him in the eyes. He returns the look. He seems agonized. Does he maybe understand my agony more than I’d prefer?

One last time, he strokes through my hair and then I jump up and break apart from him. He flinches. He probably didn’t expect my reaction. I should thank him, but I can’t. I can’t move. I can only stare at him in despair. The reason is more than silly.

He turned the light on when he came in and he can see my face. He can see _me_. Without make-up. Without a wig. This fact embarrasses me so much I put my hands in front of my face. I step back. I feel exposed. Tears come to my eyes. Why do I have to make a scene? It’s just Haymitch…

„Princess, there’s nothing you’ve to be embarrassed of”, he carefully says. He doesn’t really know what to say either. Maybe he’s just surprised. Or maybe I’m just not pretty enough in his opinion.

I don’t move. „I’m sorry I woke you up. I’m going to the pharmacy tomorrow to prescribe sleeping pills” I quickly say, so he won’t have to see me like this ever again.

“They won’t work”, he replies and suddenly, his voice seems far away. It causes me goosebumps. Does he speak from experience?

Then, I feel his hands on my shoulders. “You don’t have to be ashamed”, he repeats. His voice is barely hearable, but completely soft. Unfortunately, can’t see him through my fingers. But I feel his body some centimeters away from me. He squeezes my shoulder one last time. I hear his footsteps. The door clicks shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	6. Like An Animal

~~~~** Like An Animal **

The sun is already rising behind the buildings of the city. The morning is colder than expected. I didn’t take a jacket and now I’m feeling chilly. I’m standing on the balcony and looking down at the golden city. The sun bathes it in a bright light. The view takes my breath away. Since I discovered the sight from up here, I spend a lot of time on the roof. It’s fascinating, isolated and silent, so one can dwell on thoughts, undisturbed. And last night gave me enough material to think about.

My relationship with Haymitch improved a lot over the last year. We fight less. We get along better. One could truly say that we finally wound a way to be friends. The thought stings me. I don’t even know why. It confuses me. _He_ confuses me.

I want to air my feelings. Preferably, I would like to shout them from the rooftop. Here and now. So they can finally vanish and never come back. So I can finally return to my daily routine. So I can finally be the woman that I once was. But I know that it won’t work. Or will it?

My shoes dangle in my left hand. I took them off when I had entered the roof. Up here, I don’t need to cover up my true height. I’m taller than all the people in this city. I don’t need my high heels up here.

Frustrated, I push myself away from the handrail and walk a step back. I feel the urge in my veins. The urge to destroy something. I don’t understand why I’m so angry or with whom I’m actually crossed. Maybe with Haymitch because he got to see the true Effie. But probably with myself because I don’t know who the _real_ Effie is. I _have_ to play a role. Everyone in the Capitol plays a role. We wouldn’t survive without it. Haymitch shall not intervene in my affairs. The Games are horrible, no doubt, but they exists. And neither him nor me can ever change that.

While I think about it, I realize that I’m crossed with him after all. I gasp for air. I want to laugh about my behavior and my stupidity. Why can’t I just ignore all of it, like all the people do? Why does all of this bother me so much? Why can’t I just be the lady my mother raised me to?

It makes no sense to stay on the roof and stare over the city. It doesn’t change anything. I turn around and the first thing I see are his grey eyes in which the sun mirrors. The light makes the fear disappear from his face. He suddenly looks so composed if it wasn’t for the face expression. He stares at me and seems worried. Before I can open my mouth, he raises his hand to silence me.

“You’re alright?”, he seriously asks but I can hear a touch of amusement in his voice.

“What do you care?”, I shoot back. Why is he here? My heart stops for a second. How long is he already here? Actually, it doesn’t matter, but a little part of me wants to know how long he has been watching me.

“Just wanted to be polite”, he sharply remarks and shrugs. “Doesn‘t look so.”

„For how long have you been standing there?” My voice turns to a threatening whisper.

Judging from his eyes, he knows that he should carefully think about the answer. “A while”, he cautiously says and gets silent as he sees from my expression that _this_ was definitely wrong.

“How dare you watching me?”, I snap at him. My voice, which sounded quiet and threatening just now, shakes of outrage and I don’t manage to keep it calm. “Where are your manners? You don’t treat a lady like that!”

I glare at him as furious as I can and walk past him towards the stairs. Blind with rage, I oversee the last step and almost fall. My hands can grab the handrail in the very last moment. I stumble a lot over the last while. This circumstance already reaches my dreams.

I don’t understand myself. My body doesn’t do what it should do. Why is it so difficult for me? I act as if I’ve never dreamt bad. The dream threw me off track, but it wasn’t my first nightmare, so why do I act like it was?

oOo

Somehow, I feel uncomfortable when I enter the dining hall. The thought of having diner with Haymitch isn’t a good one. To my fortune, he isn’t present. Maybe he already ate. As I sit down at the table and look down at my plate, I realize the food I served myself with. A round bun, not from the Capitol so I must have taken from the District’s basket, strawberry jam and some fruit salad.

While the red-headed Avox serves me orange juice and a coffee, I skeptically stare at the bun. Thereby, I whisper an absent thankyou as he wants to disappear through the kitchen door. It takes me a moment until I notice his body out of the corner of my eye, which suddenly seems frozen solid to the ground.

Questioning, I raised my head when it finally dawns on me. My eyes widen for a second, until I quickly get my features under control again. The read-headed Avox gives me a thin smile and then disappears. I _thanked_ him. I never did that before. My mother would directly criticize my behavior. I _t is forbidden to speak to them. They are here to fulfill their duty, just as you are here to fulfill yours._

Something in me changes, I noticed it in recent days. But I don’t know why. The thing that should surprises me the most is that I like it. I doesn’t though. As if my brain was already aware of it long ago. I digest the topic when I get a headache. With a sigh, I turn to my malformed bun and slice it. The flour is different, darker and grainier as the one from the Capitol.

“It comes from Twelve”, I hear a pleasant voice speak behind my back. Peeta stands at the buffet and regards me amused. “It’s better than the Capitol’s bread, in my opinion”, he adds and sits down opposite from me.

I nod, thankful for his knowledge and spread jam on one half of the bun, although I’m not sure yet if it will actually taste better. My gaze wanders to his plate and I recognize the same kind of bread. My stomach gets heavy the moment that I start to think about his words. Of course, it tastes better to him, it’s from home after all. Probably baked by his parents or siblings.

“The bread won’t bite, Effie”, he remarks after he swallowed his first bite and examines my expression.

His comment is so absurd that I start to laugh just before I can hold myself back. Then, I taste the bread. Peeta is right. It really tastes good. But if it really tastes better is open to dispute. They use more salt than the bakers from the Capitol which creates a pleasant contrast to the jam.

“You’re right”, I say and nod in his direction. “The taste is very good. Different, but special.”

His smile stretches from one ear to the other. “Thank you.”

It seems to do him good to talk about his family. When I ask him about his activities in the bakery, he begins to talk a mile a minute. And every blind would have felt how he opens up at his thoughts. Katniss is the complete opposite of him. When she enters the room and hears Peeta talk, she turns on her heels and flees. Everyone copes on one’s one way with the memories. Sometimes I wonder if Katniss hates me for reaping her sister’s name and thereby enmesh her in this chain of incidents. If it wasn’t for me, she would have never had anything to do with all of this. She would live a happy and peaceful live in District Twelve.

For a moment, I think to just ask Peeta about it, but as friendly as he is, he would only tell me what is best for me to hear. He plays the game perfectly well. Peeta is a wonderful soul. He tells his story, jumps on another topic and when he notices that I don’t want to talk about my past, he still manages to make me feel comfortable and goes on with something else.

We talk about Twelve. What changes since my last visit, since they have a new head-peacekeeper. But we never mention the reason for all those occurrences, why Katniss’s actions in the arena have led them all into this. It would be much too dangerous.

Not that I truly blame Katniss, it wasn’t her fault because she didn’t know it better, but the people in the districts didn’t see it as an act of love but as an act of disobedience. And the Capitol would never tolerate _that_.

Then, Haymitch emerges in the doorframe. He nods to Peeta but his look is fixed on me. I try to elude his eyes as effectively as possible. My head pains too much to start another discussion right now. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be bothered by the risk of an outburst on my part, because much to my regret he sits down next to Peeta. Opposite of me. Sometimes it’s truly easy to hate him. Unfortunately, I’m not half as good at ignoring him.

“Has Katniss showed up?” The question addressed us both, but again his eyes only rest on me.

I raise my head in his direction and directly come face to face with him. His eyes pronounce a silent apology. He meant no harm. He looks so serious and believable, so different from usual, that my anger vanishes as quickly as it came. And again, my emotions betray me. It would be so easy to hate him…

I nod to him to make him understand that I'm not mad at him anymore. But deep inside of me, I somehow still feel exposed although nothing has actually happened.

“Since when do you eat bread from Twelve, sweetheart?” His eyebrows shoot up and he examines me, interested.

Shivering, my hands stroke over my upper arms in a self-hugging gesture. He behaves as if he isn’t talking with Effie Trinket, but with another human being. Suddenly, I feel driven into a corner by the looks he gives me.

I act weird recently. My identity raises to the surface more and more, although I tried to hide it under my perfect mask for all those years. To protect myself. And now this man tries to dig it up. God knows why. My eyes hectically move from one side of the room to the other and get caught on the exit. _Like an animal that’s escaping its predator_.

But I don’t get myself. I’m _Effie Trinket_. A woman who lays it on the line, who keeps Haymitch in his place, who is brave and doesn’t flee from her problems. Like an animal. Predator or prey?

„I wanted to taste it”, I retort irritated and lower my gaze. I recall the last night. The way I craved his strong arms around me. When I look at him now, I don’t feel a craving at all. It’s perhaps down to the fact that somehow, I’m still angry with him. _But perhaps it’s just down to the fact that he_ saw _you. Without makeup and without wig or anything else the Capitol imposed on you_.

I’m not ready for this yet. It preys on my mind, more than yesterday. I had other worries yesterday.

While I eat the rest of breakfast, I notice that the table had fallen silent. Puzzled, I look up and understand what is wrong. Haymitch didn’t retort to my rebuff. And he usually did. I look at him across the table but his sight is lowered to the plate in front of him. Nevertheless, I see the strained features. He is probably holding back an unpolite comment.

In my mind, I go through the day’s schedule. Today is the last day of common training, Katniss and Peeta will be busy until the late afternoon. In the intervening time, I will meet my mother in the city. She requested me several times since our arrival in the Capitol already, but either I was very busy or I acted as if I was very busy to avoid the meeting. Meetings with my mother are usually rather exhausting and depressing affairs.

Before Peeta leaves the room, I wish him good luck and insist to pass it on to Katniss. _Have fun_ wouldn’t be the right thing to say. _May the odds be ever in your favor_. Now, I’m all alone with Haymitch. He seems as if he was waiting for Peeta to leave because as soon as the boy disappears behind the doorframe, he raises his head and swallows the last bit of coffee in his mug. His look meets my.

For some minutes it stays quiet. He seems to look for the right words. Then, he finally clears his throat. “What happened yesterday…”, he starts and tries not to throw me a pitying look, after all he doesn’t want to be pitied either. “Does it happen often?”

I shouldn’t tell him the truth. He led my life to chaos already and would probably only worsen it. I don’t know what my eyes tell him. I don’t know anything right now. _My façade_.

And I really don’t know what gets into me when I clear my throat. I fear that my voice will break. “Lately”, I admit and stare stressed at my untouched glass of orange juice. Why did I thank the Avox?

I hate headaches. They always come when I need them least of all. Like now. I want to reflect about this all morning, but my head thwarted my plans. And when I look up now, at Haymitch, then I wonder why I’m sitting here. With him. Why I care talking to him at all. He is a drunkard. As soon as he will be drunk for the next time, he will forget everything again. Sometimes I like the drunk Haymitch better than the sober Haymitch. With him I can be sure of his motivations. The sober Haymitch is a completely different person. Impenetrable.

“Do you want to tell me why? Or what they’re about?”, he asks, kindly as never. He probably intends to give me time and space.

I don’t answer. I definitely won’t tell him about it. It’s not his business. What is he thinking? Since when are we such good friends that I would talk with _him_ about my problems? Yesterday was just a stupid coincidence. I’m Effie Trinket. I don’t need his sympathy. Where I appear, men fall to the ground to worship and court me. And if I wanted to talk, I would find myself someone. I could have anyone, if I wanted. He should presume less.

Quietly, I move the chair back and want to stand up.

“I also have them.” His voice is thin, not more than the whiff of an agonizing whisper. It’s the only thing that causes me to freeze in my movement. I lean onto the table and watch him. “Nightmares?”, I ask puzzled and the last bit of arrogance, with which I wanted to stalk out of the room, vanishes into thin air. I see him nodding in absence and suddenly I realize how much effort it must have cost him to tell me the truth. He responds to my gaze and I immediately see how he tries to keep the horrible memories at bay in his head.

Carefully, I plop down into the chair again. Then, he nods slightly. It rather looks as if he turns his head from one side to the other, but I know him long enough to speak his language. “I see them”, I confess. “Every night.” Now that I purposely think of my dreams, my body starts shivering. Not like yesterday, just a little. But it’s enough to choke me. I helplessly stare at him.

It seems as if Haymitch directly knows what I mean. “You draw them, don’t you?”

Surprised, I return his look. “How-?” I sound as if I caught a cold.

“I saw them”, he says. “When we were sitting together on the day of the opening ceremonies.” He doesn’t want to talk further. I vividly remember how he mocked me for chewing on my pencil. _Princess, you should chew on your pencil more often, it’s a nice sight._

His words won’t get out of my head. What did he mean? “I recognized her right away”, he continues when I don’t answer. My stomach gets heavy as I think about it. I didn’t even know that I drew them until I eyes one of the drawings a little closer. Just as Haymitch, I immediately recognized the girl which I had drawn and sent to death. I wonder that he remembers, he was drunk the whole season after all.

“It was the day it got really bad”, I admit after a while of silence. I don’t want to continue this talk. I like to ask him about his own dreams, but I’m quite sure that he dreams of the arena. It’s no wonder all the victors become insane somehow.

“I don’t understand“, he mumbles. “How do you manage to get up and do your job every day?” He sounds completely calm, but he burns under the surface. I _know_ it.

And for the first time I have the feeling that I know why he drinks. At least to some extent. I throw him a cheery look. “Work distracts me”, I say. “I don’t think about something else when I focus on my work.”

“It’s funny”, he retorts. “You’re in pain because of your work but it still distracts you from the pain.”

I sigh. “It’s more complicated as that.”

“Why don’t you just quit?”

I shrug my shoulders. Today, I don’t know myself. In the past, I wanted to be in the spotlight. To prove to my mother that I could be the perfect daughter as well. To make her proud. It had lots of reasons. But back then I underestimated the act that came with the Hungergames. The true distraction the games were. I thought that it was a huge show and somehow, it was. But not in the way I imagined it. Only the death of our first tributes brought me back to life. Brought me back to reality, but it was to late to back down. You don’t quit the Hungergames without a real reason. Some escorts learnt it the hard way, not many but some. It was always covered under accidents or suicides. Just as they did with Seneca.

I hesitate for a moment before I work up the courage to ask. “Is it the reason for the drinking?”, I cautiously ask because I don’t want to provoke him.

“Likewise”, he confesses, but in a tone that makes clear that he doesn’t want to talk about it. I accept it.

My eyes wanders to the table again. I don’t know what else I should say. What else I could say. Both of us conceive pain. Each another kind of pain. He is a lost being with broken heart. I have no clue how I could help him. _Don’t you dare to think that you’re better off_. But am I not?

Haymitch keeps silent. He watches the sun as if he wants to distract himself. Just as I do. It relaxes me to study him. Now that he doesn’t pay attention if someone observes him, he almost seems peaceful. Then he turns to me again. My reflexes aren’t fast enough and our eyes lock.

“I’m sorry.” Maybe he saw something in my look.

Questioning, I raise an eyebrow. “What are you sorry for?”

“For everything.” He doesn’t look at me anymore. I don’t know what he means. “We’ll get them out of there.”

For a moment, I just stare at him. He didn’t think about his words. There will only be one victor. He knows it. We’ll get them out of there. What does he mean by that? I want to point out the truth, but then I see his look. He stares past me and something in his eyes flashes. Fear? I can’t tell for sure because as quickly as it came it disappears again. Maybe I imagined it.

Then, he clothes a smile on his face. “And? What are your plans for the time they’re in training, princess?” I guess that it will take a while until I’m going to be used to his sober state.

“I’m meeting my mother”, I answer and mention my mother for the very first time. She represents everything the Capitol is made of. But there are lots of other reasons why I avoid her presence. “What about you?”

He shrugs and leans back in his chair. “No idea, maybe I’ll stay here. Maybe I’ll visit the city and have look around.” Have a look around? He optimally knows his way around in the Capitol. After all, he is the one annually doing a pub tour together with Chaff. Always looking for new secluded bars. Sometimes I don’t understand Haymitch at all and I doubt that he understands himself.

Then, I suddenly hit on an idea. It’s so absurd that I should directly discard it, but somehow I don’t want to leave Haymitch alone here. He might start drinking again and we can’t afford this right now. “I can take you with me”, I offer and look at the clock. I jump to my feet in shock. I completely forgot about the time during our talk! “However, you have to hurry. I’m running late!”

Before he can reply, I hurry out of the room to get ready. Admittedly, I’m already dressed up, but neither did I brush my teeth nor did I prepare my purse. Not that I’m taking a lot with me but I have to pick a purse first and it has to fit with my outfit. It might take some time.

When I look in the mirror, I notice that I forgot to adjust my wig after the fall on the roof. It was sloping on my head all morning. How could both Peeta and Haymitch look at me without laughing? They could have at least said something. Luckily, my true hair was still invisible and perfectly hidden under the wig. Nevertheless, my mother wouldn’t be pleased. So I renew my makeup and begin to search for the right purse. It proves to be harder than expected. My schedule slips into the red and I’m pretty sure that I won’t make it to our meeting on time.

The fabric of my dress is completely made from dark turquoise with a huge dark-green ruffle on the right shoulder which extends down to my cleavage. Thereto a matching bright green wig that merges into white at the back of my head. Even the wig has ruffles. Black ones but not as big as the one on my dress. In comparison to usual, my makeup is rather modest. Too much of fake powder wouldn’t match all the green in my opinion…

After endless searching and hundreds of irritated sighs, I finally decide for a purse of black leather. Then I almost run to the living room. My wonderful black high heels, one of my favorite pairs, aren’t made for such a sprint. I underestimated the smoothness of the floor and slide some meters, my arms raised frightened in the air, until I eventually come to a halt. At least I’m still _standing_.

I hear Haymitch laugh behind my back. Scandalized, I turn around. He sits on the couch, perfectly dressed, and looks very amused. He looks handsome in the black suit. The same one he wore yesterday but it doesn’t matter. I have to think of last night again, when he was suddenly sitting on my bed. His suit and shirt were unbuttoned. “How did you hear me last night?”

Surprised, he responds my questioning look. The question seems to put him off his stride. “I came from Chaff”, he admits. “Only returned then.”

I examine him, skeptically. He didn’t look drunk. Didn’t they want do drink? “You weren’t drunk, I remember that.”

Suddenly he seems to get impatient. “We didn’t drink all the time”, he gives back, irritated now, as if I had accused him of just that. But I didn’t mean the drinking. I meant something else. “Can we go now?” He doesn’t tell me the whole truth.

“Come on then”, I answer mechanically and turn on my heels. I’ll let him know that I see through him.

But if he notices, he doesn’t let it show. He just changes the subject. “Nice of you to take me with you, sweetheart. You wouldn’t have done this some years ago.” Withal he grins tickled.

Actually, I wanted to ignore him. With a sigh I decide for the more passable variety. “Please do not go down that road, Haymitch Abernathy”, I say strictly and throw him a disdainful look. He knows of course that I’m not serious. He knows me good enough.

Alongside one another, we enter the elevator. It’s a strange feeling. He chuckles to himself. “Believe me, I experienced so much in my life that dealing with Effie Trinket won’t be another burden.” The teasing mirrors in his eyes.

“What do you even want in the city? Did you think of something specific?”, I ask instead and ignore his comment. I won’t give in to his banter just so he has something to laugh about.

But I can’t hide a smirk when he takes the bait. “I’m tired to be always served the same dinner to be honest”, he admits and pounds the button of the elevator. The door closes and a short jolt goes through my legs when the elevator begins to move noiselessly.

I look indignantly at him. “But Haymitch! Where are your manners? Those people try hard to prepare dinner for us! You should appreciate their work”, I say reproachfully and give him another indignant look. At least I try to.

He scrutinizes me with a long glare. Completely serious. At some point, I can’t hold myself back and have to laugh. His answer is so silly and childish. This man will be the death of me.

“A lady doesn’t laugh with opened mouth”, he retorts, still serious, and throws me an indefinable look. I press my lips together at once.

“I’m only joking”, he says then and shows me his teeth.

At this moment, we reach the seventh floor and I have no time to answer something. I can only relax my lips when the door opens and Johanna Mason enters the cabin. She gives Haymitch a recognizing grin and ignores me completely. This young lady is even more brusque than usual.

“Haymitch, where are you going?”, she asks although she doesn’t sound truly curious. Possible that her unusual voice is to blame because everything that comes out of her mouth sounds harsh and sarcastic. It is difficult for me to like her but I do my best. Maybe she was different once. Before the games drew her in a never ending swirl and disgorged her as a stunted wreck . I really do my best.

“Out of this madhouse”, he gives back and raises his eyebrows. “And you, sweetheart? Wielding some axes before Plutarch will tear you to pieces tomorrow?”

I don’t like it how he calls her sweetheart. He only calls Katniss and me so. Although it may very well be that he names every woman with this pet name. He _definitely_ does.

Johanna’s laugh sounds worse than her voice. She steps closer to Haymitch and observes him with narrowed eyes. Her eyes are at the height of his chin. She’s a tall woman, taller than Katniss or me.

“Believe me, _I_ will tear _them_ to pieces. For me. For you. “ Then she steps back again and then adds: “For all of us.”

A purr signalizes us that we reached the basement. Her gaze wanders to me and now she surveys me with narrowed eyes. “You look ridiculous as always, but I guess you know that.”

I raise an eyebrow and slightly smile. “I would be happy to talk to you about _your_ appearance, but ill tongues rumor that you prefer to walk around with no clothes at all since very recently.”

Johanna throws me a grim look and then turns on her heels before she elegantly exits the elevator. She spins her head in Haymitch’s direction one last time. “You’ll be the next one with an axe in your head, if you ever call me sweetheart again”, she calls over her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! :)


	7. Family Matters

** Family Matters **

„Johanna’s getting into top gear”, I blurt out before I can stop myself. Haymitch shouldn’t believe that I’m interested in Johanna. Or interested in _him_. 

The Training Centre is deserted at this time of day. Journalists and photographers are either waiting outside or allowing themselves a lunch hour while the tributes are at training. We don’t meet anybody in the corridors. 

“She’s always like this”, he just says with a shrug, but I know that, it wasn’t our first verbal fight after all. Then he asks, where we are going. Why does he act as if he doesn’t know how to find his way to the Capitol’s city center?

Sighting, I throw him a look, like teachers throw them at their students when the answer is too obvious. “I have a meeting outside midtown. I can throw you off at the main street, it’s only a few blocks away from here.”

“But you’ve told me that I can _come_ with you. To me it sounds as if you’re driving somewhere”, he retorts complacently and grins triumphantly, as if he was happy to outargue me. Another of his character attributes which gets on my nerves sometimes.

“That’s because I’ll drive with my car. Otherwise, I wouldn’t exit at the basement”, I say in a superior tone and smile at him innocently, but my eyes sparkle in amusement. “Didn’t you know that?”

Haymitch snorts and tramps through a door which automatically opens as soon as the movement sensor registers us. I follow him into the underground carpark, although a little slower because I fear to twist my ankle in those shoes. It happened to me once before and it was anything but amusing. Fortunately, I’m not wearing overly high heels.

“You have a car?”, he blankly asks after a while, as if it attracted his attention just now.

He must consider me very incompetent. Irritated by his comment, I ignore his question and rummage around my purse for the car keys. I have a car _indeed_. It’s a small white cabrio. With silver rims and leather seats. Although the two backseats aren’t really made for actual human beings. One would only squash one’s legs.

With the lights flashing, the car unlocks and Haymitch startles for a second because he didn’t expect the car to be mine. I walk to the driver’s side, open the door and lean against the roof while I study Haymitch. He stares at me in astonishment. “This is your car?” He sounds surprised and utterly amused.

I nod thoughtfully. “This is my car”, I confirm. “Do you have a problem with it?” He examines the car as if it emerged out of thin air.

Even in the carpark we have neon light. It burns down on us and makes his skin glow in an unnatural white. Quickly, he shakes his head and steps forward to the passenger door. At that, he gives me a smile. “Absolutely not. I just expected a pink car with fluffy seat cushions”, he answers and grins before he gets in the car without bothering to ask first.

Carefully, I sit down next to him, anxious not to bump my wig in the car top. I pull the door shut and throw my purse on the backseat. For _this,_ the backseat is perfect.

“Are you even allowed to drive in those shoes?”, he nervously asks. Maybe he’s actually worrying about his safety for the first time in his life. His voice sounds incredibly close and I turn to him. He has leaned his head in my direction and surveys me skeptically.

“Unbelievable, Haymitch, really. There’s no reason to worry about.” To prove my point, I turn on the engine. Whirring like a tiger, the car comes to live. I hate noisy cars. Out of the corner of my eye, I throw a checking look at Haymitch. He fastens his seatbelt and clings to the seat when I turn around and pull out of the parking space.

My car begins to move, and I head for the exit. He barely relaxes. “Don’t act as if my driving’s that bad.”

He nods his head back and fro, indecisive what to say. “Wait and see.”

We drive out of the parking garage, directly onto a main highroad. Haymitch clings to the window like a little boy. I have to smile at the sight of him. Skillfully, I get in line for the road traffic and soon enough, we stop at the first light.

“Not bad, sweetheart”, he admits and grins. His blond hair falls in his face and before I can properly think about it, I bend forward and stroke the strand behind his ear. His grey eyes meet mine and for a second, my heart skips a beat. His smile is gone. What’s wrong with me? Where will it all end?

I pull my hand back to the steering wheel but keep looking at him. Just as he keeps looking at me. The hoot of the car behind me makes me flinch. Haymitch throws a look at the back. I step on the gas too heavy and the car shoots forward.

“Sorry”, I mumble and intently stare at the street ahead to avoid his eyes. I feel them resting on me. My ears glow with heat.

“Fasten your seatbelt”, he suddenly demands. His tone isn’t soft but certain. I didn’t even know that Haymitch had a protective side.

Flustered, I shake my head. “Not right now”, I squeeze with clenched teeth as I drive around a corner and a speedster almost runs us down. “Idiot.”

His following laugh echoes through the small car. I force my eyes on the street. “Where are your manners, Effie?”, he cackles and fails at the attempt to imitate my voice. I dislike it when he mimics me, parrots my false accent and flutters his hands through the air at the same time. I can’t help the accent. It’s not even real. It’s all fashion.

I think of my mother and know exactly that she will probably throw similar phrases at me. I would have liked it better if my father came as well, but he has to work.

“Where shall I take you?”, I ask him and drive past green parks in which my father had gone ice skating with my sister and me sometimes. At the thought of it, I have to smile and avert my gaze.

Haymitch, who completely misunderstood the question, looks sulkily over to me. When he registers my face expression, he realizes the friendly meaning behind my words. For a moment, his eyes wander to my lips. My smile disappears. Confused, I lead my look to the street again. Did I imagine it, or did he really do it?

“To be honest, I don’t even know where we are”, he says without a spark of regret in his voice. “I think it’d be best if I just come with you. Then you don’t have to pick me up somewhere later. It’d surely only cause you problems.” I throw him a look. He stares straightforward, grinning.

“You can’t come along”, I hear myself say, quick like a shot. “I’m meeting my mother.”

“I’m sure that your mother won’t mind it.” But _I_ mind it.

“Believe me, you don’t want to meet her”, I retort tentatively because I’m not sure what else to say.

“Come on, sweetheart, I won’t embarrass you. I’ll order myself a coffee and shut my mouth, promise.”

He mustn’t embarrass me. My mother puts a lot of emphasis on my appearance and in her opinion, Haymitch doesn’t fit in my world. The fact that he has to mentor again displeased her just the same. She looked forward to see Katniss and Peeta because, in her eyes, they were real victors. And I don’t believe that Haymitch will take a liking to her, because her opinion on the Games is different. More radical.

Let him fall on his nose if he thinks he could estimate anything and everything correctly. “All right. But I warned you.” I look at him, seriously. Haymitch nods but doesn’t seem to worry too much.

Shortly after we pass the park, there are buildings around us again. This part of the city is one of my favorite areas. Here, I grew up. I slow the car down to look at my old school, as I always do when I ride past. Then my university. It’s good to be home again. It gives me the feeling of security. I don’t often visit. My own apartment is located near the Training Centre to be closer to the events during the Games.

This inner-city suburb is extremely popular for its alleys full of cafés from where one has a great view over the grassy area. I drive towards a parking lot and watch my surroundings. There’s a small lake full of ducks and swans surrounded by treetops. Parents with their children. Pupils and teenagers, who run over the street to keep step with their friends. The people don’t dress themselves as rigorous as the Capitols from midtown. It’s pleasant, although I stand out in my exaggerated outfit.

I park the car at the corner of a street which adjoins to the pedestrian area. Haymitch has opened the passenger’s door even before the engine fell completely silent. While I turn to the back seats to pick up my purse, he already exited and looks around. _Great manners._

When I exit the car, Haymitch is already standing at a fountain some meters away. His blond hair has a golden tinge in the sunlight. He contemplates the little children, who perch in the fountain and dabble around, as their mothers’ gossip with each other. This daily routine seems to fascinate him. Or to shock him. I can’t exactly tell because he turned his back on me.

“Haymitch”, I call out for him and beckon him over to the pedestrian area. “We’re already late.”

He turns around and follows my hand. Some pedestrians turn to him when I call him by his name. But they quickly continue walking, today is an ordinary workday after all.

“What is she like?”, asks Haymitch as we enter the pedestrian tone and head for the cafés. His voice sounds honestly curious.

I know of course that he talks about my mother. “She- Well, I can’t really describe her veritably. You have to get to know her yourself to get an idea of her.” My mother is a complicated woman. One has to know exactly how to treat her, so she doesn’t go for one’s throat. But she isn’t a bad person. She’s my mother after all.

Many pedestrians come our way and it makes me wonder. Maybe they took time off during the Hunger Games. Now, I’m glad that I didn’t take a jacket with me. The sun shines down on us and slowly, it’s broiling. I set out to open my cabrio’s roof on our way home later. But for now, we should really hurry, not just because of my mother but also because I’m dying of thirst.

Haymitch’s heavy breathing confirms me. He isn’t used to our climate zone. It’s never as warm in District Twelve as here in the Capitol.

The buildings aren’t nearly as high as in midtown, where mostly skyscrapers dominate. Here, the buildings never have more than five floors, but are therefor painted in lovely pastel colors. The whole pedestrian area is planted with trees with benches underneath. I’m thankful for the shadow the trees afford. Lots of teenagers walk past us, walking arm in arm with their friends. With shopping bags or ice-cream in their hands. They laugh and gesture wildly.

Absentmindedly, I cast my mind back to my youth. I want to go back to this time. Haymitch must have seen the expression on my face. “You like it here”, he determines.

I nod. “I grew up here “, I reply and the smile on my face grows.

“So, this is your … _district_?” He walks on my right side, directly next to me and obviously tries to visualize my life.

“Something like that, yes.” I have to smile at the thought. It somehow sounds foreign, although one could really name it like that.

“Would you show me around later on?”, he then asks out of the blue. Does it fascinate him so much?

I have no objections. We would have to leave my mother a little sooner than planned, but I don’t think it would be the end of the world. I sigh because we have already passed the pedestrian zone which now opens to a square with lots of cafés. The square has been constructed antiquated and some people wanted to take it down to modernize it. The majority argued in favor of the preservation of the square’s original look. Fortunately. This is a part of my home.

The square has been built in a quadratic. The ground isn’t made of asphalt but consists of flagstones. Cafés and restaurants occupy three quarters of the square’s edges. The fourth side issues into an artificial lake. The lake’s bed is illuminated by colorful lights. This is one of the few hotspots of the city. Also, because they arrange a huge monitor in the middle of the square during the Games. The citizens can watch all the important interviews and incidents live while they meet friends and eat or drink together.

The square is filled with people. A colorful crowd of people bustles around the monitor and follows the training of the tributes. The first year they show it, although I don’t believe they will also broadcast their individual lessons. Not a good idea with twenty-four victors who ought to be pretty angry with the Capitol.

As Haymitch sees the monitor, he stops dead in his tracks. I turn to him and throw him an apologizing look. “When the Hunger Games are not around, this place is truly beautiful”, I say but ain’t convinced that he believes me.

I beckon him over as we walk past the monitor. The people are so obsessed with the happenings on screen that they fortunately don’t notice Haymitch, the last living victor of a Quarter Quell.

“Here we are”, I say, anxious not to pant or sound exhausted by the sun’s heat.

I guide him up to the terrace of a café with lots of tables. They stand in the shadow of sunshades and are surrounded by cute green chairs.

Here too, the place is so crowded that we don’t manage to get a table. However, my mother should be here already, so it’s only a matter of time until she spots us. Haymitch gives me a clueless gaze. I calmly smile at him which he replies without hesitation. But mentally, I’m preparing. _Convince her._

“Euphemia”, a voice shrills behind us and I just have time to straighten my back before she already stands in front of me.

She looks the same as ever. At least a head taller than me, with the highest heels that I have ever seen on a woman. A beige dress with brown patterns in which she looks older than she actually is. She wears an incredibly long scarf around her neck that reaches her knees. If she sweats, she doesn’t let it show. Of course, she doesn’t, she’s a lady after all. Her complexion is colored darker than her true skin color. Bright red lipstick, black fake lashes. A diamonded eyelid line. Did she have her wrinkles removed? I have more wrinkles in remembrance. My last visit was only three weeks ago … In addition to her outfit, she wears an orange wig with blue strands. I have to avert my eyes because the color blinds me. And as if this wasn’t already enough, there’s an oversized ribbon on top of her head. In black.

A shudder runs down my back. My mouth is dry, and I don’t dare to speak. Instead, I glimpse at Haymitch, who is on the verge of breaking out in laughter. I see the effort it takes him to press his lips together and turn his eyes away from her. Our eyes lock for a moment and suddenly the grin vanishes from his face. He turns completely serious as he spots the fear in my eyes. No fooleries. No mistakes. Only show yourself at your best.

“Euphemia!”, she yells again in a sharp tone and the expression in her eyes hardens.

Almost automatically, I flinch and start to smile at the same time. It’s so much harder to do this with _him_ next to me. “Mother.”

With a smile, she outstretches her arms in my direction to give me a hug. After we break away from each other, she surveys me from top to bottom. “Good Lord, Euphemia, what a sight you are!”

Puzzled, I look down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”, I cautiously ask.

“Good Lord, what has come over you? How often have you been wearing this dress already?”, she snapped at me as I was a little girl again. At this moment, I also feel like a little girl. “I’ve seen you wearing it on television several times. A real shame!”

I duck my head because I know what is going to follow. “And your punctuality leaves much to be desired, young lady! You’re too late by an hour. You can’t even believe how long I’ve been waiting!”

This is my mother all over. I give her the fake smile that I’ve given her all those years. She always behaves like this and I don’t even believe she means it personally. “I’m really sorry, mother, but-”

“It’s not her fault, madam. To be honest, this is all my fault. I saw myself forced to hold a last tactical meeting with my team, which is why we left delayed.” Stunned and entirely astonished, my mother and me turn to Haymitch coincidently. He just stands there with a polite smile on his lips.

“And who are you?”, asks my mother and sizes him up with a grim expression. But I know she recognizes him. How couldn’t she?

“Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the fifty’s Hunger Games”, Haymitch says, ignores her gaze and reaches for her hand to drop a kiss on its back.

I give him another puzzled stare. He takes me by surprise because I don’t know this side of Haymitch. When he throws me a quick glance, I respond it thankfully. He lied for me. Like a true _gentleman_.

“Lyssandra Trinket”, she introduces herself astonished and continues with her fake voice and a charming smile. “Wow, my daughter accompanied by a victor. And then a victor with such extraordinary manners. I’m very impressed, Euphemia. Although I heard some _things_ about him.”

I smile awkwardly because I feel blindsided and don’t know what to say.

“I wouldn’t have thought that you take our meetings so seriously and introduce the last living Quarter Quell victor to your mother!” So, she actually knew him. With sudden glee, she grasps Haymitch’s arm.

“Tell me, Haymitch, is the Capitol to your liking?”

“Yes, it definitely is. It’s … _enormous_ ”, he answers evasively and puts his most likable smile on his face as my mother closes up on him. She must know his public persona from his Games. We gave a lot of interviews together so by now, I should be familiar with his act, but it still surprises me how pleasant he can behave. He probably saves it for all the bugging fans from the Capitol.

My mother’s fake laugh brings me back to reality. “It must be a huge honor to mentor such remarkable tributes.” She doesn’t even make the effort to lead us to our table. “Especially at a Quarter Quell. I bet you’ll steal the show from your two tributes, you’re the last living Quarter Quell victor after all!” My mother sounds so excited that I have to stare at her for a moment, to read the true intentions out of her eyes.

Strangers wouldn’t notice the change in his expression, but I, who knows him for such a long time by now, immediately see how his eyes darken at her comment. But he puts a good face on the matter and his smile is wider than before.

The midday sun makes it unbearable to stand in the beam of light without the protection of a sunshade. My mother seems to notice it eventually because she finally leads us to her table. It is located at the terrace’s edge and not in the middle for what I’m thankful.

“Consider yourself fortunate, Euphemia. I reserved the table beforehand, otherwise we wouldn’t sit here right now”, my mother casually remarks as Haymitch breaks away from her to pull back the chair so she can sit down.

I watch him do it, bewildered, because I never saw him do something like that for me. My mother can only throw him one last soulful look, before he turns to me. I don’t have my face under control. I know it as soon as I see his.

My mother can’t see the expression in his eyes because he turned his back on her. He flashes angrily at me. No, he stares right through me as if I wasn’t there at all. Disappointed, I sit down next to my mother. His face relaxes again, but his eyes are as dark as before.

The waitress isn’t long in coming and asks us for our order with a smile. And yet, she only stares at Haymitch. Some people seem to recognize him after all. She isn’t full-aged, I can directly tell. She’s clothed too carefree for that. 

“Another coffee for me”, my mother orders and flutters her too long eyelashes at Haymitch.

“I take an orange soda and mineral water, please”, I add and smile politely distanced, like it’s common in the Capitol.

Full of expectation, the waitress looks over at Haymitch. I follow her gaze. He takes his time while he indecisively studies the drinks menu. Then, he looks up to me, to my huge surprise. I shake my head almost invisibly, and he nods. “Then I’ll take a coffee as well.” The waitress nods, but doesn’t pick up the courage to approach Haymitch, and disappears.

In my mind, I prepare for the questions that will follow. She always asks questions about everyone and everything. When she turns her head in my direction, as if she remembered my existence, I notice that Gwyneth is missing. “Where’s Gwenny?”, I ask her and eye her black nails.

“Gwyneth is very busy, Euphemia”, she says. “I organized her a photoshoot. Caius is accompanying her.” Caius is her husband. Gwyneth is five years older than me and already married.

I don’t show how it bothers me that she always organizes appointments, auditions and shootings for her only. I would never address it because I already know the answer to my question. She has more talent than me. Of course, she has. She was always better.

“Good for her”, I slowly say and slightly smile.

But my mother wouldn’t be my mother, if she couldn’t detect the crux on her own. She eyes me with a sigh. “Well, if you would make more of an effort, one would maybe offer you shootings more often.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe I don’t want any.” The statement is ridiculous, and I know it. Every woman in the Capitol thirsts for shootings.

My mother throws a look at me and then continues with a more important topic. “I heard that they wanted to promote you to District Five”, she says quick like a shot. My mother never belonged to the people who beat around the bush.

I nod approvingly. “It’s true, but I wonder where you all get your information from. Shouldn’t this be confidential?” Of course, it isn’t confidential. This is the Capitol, where everyone talks about everyone. Funny how much time it took her to get wind of it. It seems that I’m not discussion topic number one anymore.

She ignores the blame in my words. Something else seems to upset her. I detect it at the way her right eye twitches for a second. But I’m still not prepared for such an outburst of hers. “And why in God’s name are you still hanging around in this pathetic District Twelve? Euphemia, if you think that you’ll get victors every year from now on, you’re seriously mistaken! These children will die like they did in all the years before! You won’t change _anything_ about this fact!”

I flinch at her hard words and press myself in the chair’s backrest with all my strength. My cheeks feel numb as if she hit me. But she didn’t. Or did she? I’m not sure anymore … “But mother, you don’t know that …”

I glance at Haymitch, who clenches his fists in order not to lose his temper. He stares at the floor. _What a great start …_

My mother starts to laugh bitterly. “Regard it from a realistic perspective, Euphemia. Those two were an exceptional case. This year, they’ll have to deal with experienced killers. Who do you think will go down first?”

I narrow my eyes. It’s exhausting to meet my mother’s requirements. I have the feeling to fail once more every time I try. _You’re a shame for the whole family._ “I became fond of them, mother. I wanted to continue our work”, I try to explain myself instead.

But my mother doesn’t seem to notice me. She bends over the table and her blue eyes bore into mine. She doesn’t look furious, rather concerned. “Darling, it doesn’t matter if you like your victors. They don’t think of you, Euphemia, don’t you see it? You should think of yourself instead of caring for this pair of children who steal your show and are now celebrating their wedding at your expense! They’re victors and you’ll always be overshadowed by both of them. I only have your best at heart. You should work on your own career. I barely see you in the media anymore.”

Her words affect me and I’m not able to open my mouth. I hold my breath instead and wait. Earlier, before I became an escort, I thought like her. But the reality, how my mother calls it, is that children die, and we can do nothing to save them.

Haymitch looks as if he were about to explode. He clings to the table and his torso shakes. It’s a mystery to me how he manages to keep his mouth shut. What is he thinking? He knows how hard it is to survive the arena. He knows the things that will never get out of your head and haunt you at night. He knows how it is to see the people from home die. He knows because he was there. Because he _survived_ the arena.

“There are no victors”, I utter and exhale at the same moment. “There are only survivors.” The silence is prickling, and I know that I just said something dangerous without thinking twice about it.

Today, my mother sees me for the first time. She sees what her daughter has become. The exact opposite of who she wanted me to be. _The exact opposite of Gwyneth._

I return her hard look. It’s the first time that I defend myself against her point of view, against the Capitol’s point of view. And she knows it. Haymitch glares at me as well. For a moment, bewilderment mirrors on his face. His hands tremble.

Before my mother can tear strips off me, the waitress returns and serves us our drinks. I thank her politely, the others don’t. “Will there be anything else?”, she asks friendly.

Haymitch raises the cup to his lips and drinks it up in a second. If he burned himself, he doesn’t show it. He puts the cup down with a slightly aggressive crash. “For me, a glass of your most expensive wine, please.”

The day couldn’t get any worse. I throw Haymitch an apologizing glance, but he ignores me completely. I can’t even be angry with him when he helps himself with alcohol because of me.

Distressed, I fill my glass to three quarters with the orange soda and then pour mineral water to it. Like I drank it as a child. I mix the liquids with a straw.

“You’ll never get away from this, won’t you?”, my mother suddenly asks and views my lemonade with a surprisingly soft look. Amazed, I raise my eyebrows. “You always drink your lemonade like this. You already did so when you were little”, she says and smiles. Her smile sets me back to another time. I don’t want to think about my childhood. I don’t want to think about her. Suddenly, I realize that I wasn’t the only one who changed. She changed too.

“Listen, mother”, I backtrack. “I got used to District Twelve and I like to work there.” They would never transfer me because I’m the only one who has Haymitch under control.

With a flouting gesture, she puts me off and shakes her head. Her eyes flash in disappointment, but suddenly I can see the truth. “You can’t imagine how disenchanted I am, Euphemia. Why won’t you listen to me? Who have you become in the past years?” Her voice doesn’t fit in the situation. She doesn’t sound resigned like usually. A touch of fear sounds in her words.

“I’m sorry I never meet your requirements”, I give back and raise my head in an angry manner.

“Funny how we never had a problem with your sister. Follow her example just for once, darling. She has achieved so much.” She smiles at the thought of Gwyneth.

“Of course”, I calmly say and smile back. “How unfitting of me to forget that Gwyneth would probably even do my job better than I ever could.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Euphemia”, she remarks sharply. “Neither does jealousy. Instead, you could be proud of her just as the rest of the family is.”

“But it’s the truth”, I reply and avert my eyes. Why is it so hard? I always gave my best and still, they only pay attention to Gwyneth.

“Would you listen to Gwyneth?”, she suddenly asks, and I immediately turn my head in her direction. “I can tell you one thing, young lady. She would be ashamed of you. She loves you to death, Euphemia, but one has to think about oneself at some point. She helped you often enough.”

My eyes shoot up straightaway. “When did Gwyneth help me?” The contempt in my voice is unmistakable.

“I’m sure you remember Titian? Such a great man and I still can’t believe you let him go! Gwyneth provided you the contact”, mother says and throws me a severe look. Her blue eyes flash coldly. She’s not pleased with me.

“And I can’t believe you still grieve after him. He looked at me as if I was a piece of meat.” Irritated, I cross my legs.

“It was his way to show you his interest. You misinterpreted it”, she interposes and purses her lips.

“Of course. I hope that I was one of the better pieces.” Haymitch’s eyes bore into mine and warningly kicks against my foot. But I ignore him. Just now, the meaning behind her words reaches my brain and I understand what she really wants to tell me. The mood changes in a sudden. My skepsis changes into anger. Anger, she isn’t prepared for.

“Wait”, I say in a tone that makes her freeze immediately. I raise a hand to withhold her words. “Did you want to say that without Gwyneth, I wouldn’t get to know men?” My eyes bore into hers abruptly and I see that she won’t row back.

“Well, Euphemia, I’m reluctant to prick your pride, but I don’t see your point. What relationship did you have after Titian?”

For a moment, I only stare at her and think about what to say. “My loneliness doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.”

“That’s not the point, either. People are slowly beginning to wonder, why our daughter doesn’t have a partner yet. Is something wrong with her? You know this casts a poor light on all of us.” She grabs my hand across the table.

Why does she always have to think of herself? Why can’t she leave me alone for once in my life? I’m satisfied with my current situation and if I wanted to change something, I would do it on my own. Then let them wonder. If they don’t have anything else to worry about except of my life, then let them worry. Gossip and tittle-tattle.

„I dated Seneca Crane every now and then before he became the Head Gamemaker”, I say and answer her question.

Haymitch throws a look at me and I can definitely say that he’s negatively surprised. “But Seneca is no longer among us. Not a potential candidate.” I nearly give a laugh.

I sigh and massage my temple. “I’ll take care of it”, I hear myself say and a part of me wonders why I still try to make her happy while she never acknowledges me.

“Thank you”, she says, now a little softer, but something flashes in her eyes at the same moment. “And I also demand of you to get away from Twelve.”

I lean back to consider her more carefully. “You can’t stop, can you? You still think that you have any right to tell me what to do with my life.”

“I only have your and Gwyneth’s best interest at heart”, she says and looks at Haymitch, who observes us in silence. “I think this isn’t the right place for such a conversation.”

“Why not? Just tell me the truth. You wouldn’t care if I married Alastair Warren as long as he’s rich.” Stupid example but nothing else comes to my mind. Alastair is an ancient colleague of my father. _Ancient_. “Do you really believe that Gwenny married Caius out of love? She only married him because you required her to do so. You loaded him onto her, and she submitted to your will to make you happy.”

The grasp around my hand tightens and she pulls me closer. “Are you aware what you’re saying? Mind your tongue before-”

“Before what?”, I whisper back angrily. “You’re not blind, mother. Everyone knows of his affairs.” I shrug with my shoulders and know that I’m slowly crossing the line. “She didn’t marry out of love, but I doubt that your marriage was different.”

My mother stares at me, shocked. A blind mask of rage flashes over her face. “You get what you deserve”, she breathes, not fully convinced.

“I don’t want a man who has a fling behind my back”, I manage to squeeze out. “And I highly doubt this is what Gwenny wanted.”

My mother shakes her head. She boils with indignation and digs her nails in the back of my hand. “That’s enough, Euphemia. You’re a shame to our family. Don’t you dare talk about our family like that ever again.”

I laugh but feel the pain in my chest. My face transforms into an emotionless mask and for a second, we just stare at one another. It costs me all my strength to let my voice sound neutral “As you wish.”

Instantly, she lets go of my hand as if she burned herself. “Far from eye far from heart. It’s not too late yet. You can change yourself; you still have the rest of your life.”

“Would you be proud of me then?”, I ask from afar.

She suddenly averts her gaze. She turns her head and her mouth changes to a thin line. She must finally understand what I _really_ wanted to tell her all the time. Then, she gives me a sad smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It feels so wrong that I’m on the verge of bursting into tears. “Maybe.”

I nod slowly. My body reacts while my mind seems to be far away. I beam a smile at her and rummage around my purse. “I regret that our dialogue developed in such a direction. Unfortunately, we already ran out of time, we have to head back to the Training Centre.”

Taken aback, my mother stares at her watch. “But we’re barely sitting here for an hour”, she notices offended. Even Haymitch glares at me.

“I’m sorry”, I explain and count the money in my hands. “We’ve a lot to do.”

“But you’re still attending our brunch next Sunday, aren’t you?”, she suddenly asks frantically, as if she forgot something very important.

I smile with a nod. “Of course, mother.” I visit her _every_ Sunday, but she knows that. Maybe my behavior stirred her awake after all. Maybe she’ll think about my words. _Maybe …_

I bid goodbye to her. Not with an embrace but with a beaming smile. Haymitch leaves another kiss on her hand and before he can turn around, I’m already gone. I can’t look back at her to see her face one last time because my emotions return. _Just keep moving._

My hands tremble so heavily that I can barely hold my purse. I feel hot tears running down my cheeks when I walk across the square. But I don’t hold them back because nobody pays attention. The people are too busy staring at the huge monitor. Today, I’m thankful for this circumstance.

Haymitch has difficulties to keep in step. I almost _run_ across the square. _Just away from here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I am so sorry. I just forgot that I haven't uploaded anything. Tbh, somehow, I thought that I was frequently updating. Idk how this could happen ... My mind is playing tricks on me xD So here I am with the new chapter. I hope you're not too mad at me for forgetting to post. But the chapter was extra long :)
> 
> Please tell me what you think about this chapter. I'd love to her your thoughts about Effie's mom. How did you imagine her?   
> See you in three weeks!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. I'd love to read your review!


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